
Class. 
Book. 



'-^15 



Manuals of Religious education 
for parents and teachers 

Edited by Charles Foster Kent 
In collaboration with Sidney A. Weston 

CHILDHOOD and CHARACTER 

An Introduction to the Study of the 
Religious Life of Children 



By HUGH HARTSHORNE 

Assistant Professor of Religious Education in 
The Union Theological Seminary 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 

(Department of Educational Publications) 
BOSTON CHICAGO 






Copyright 1919 
By HUGH HARTSHORNE 



THE PILGRIM PRES3 
BOSTON 

©C;.A5299G4 



TO 

/». C. 1). 



PREFACE 

This book is an effort to introduce teachers to the 
study of childhood religion at first hand. Its aim is 
increase not so much of information as of insight, by 
thoughtful observation and control of children. It is 
in no sense a substitute for boys and girls as objects of 
study, and it should be used as a way of learning rather 
than as something to be learned — a guide to the real 
facts, which are Uving children, not books. 

For some time there has been a widely felt need for 
a book that will unite the study of children with the 
study of society. The social point of view in rehgion, in 
psychology, in attitude toward youth, has not so far 
given birth to a text for the guidance of teachers. Most 
current text-books are too abstract, too general, too 
Uttle interested in problems of reHgious development, 
too individualistic in their point of view, or too crowded 
with facts of lesser importance. They leave the stu- 
dent with an idea of the dissected body and mind of '^ the 
child,'' but without a notion of children living in the 
fellowship of a social whole which includes them as well 
as adults. Young and old together constitute society. 
The youthful ingredient of society in the reHgious aspect 
of its development is the subject of this volume. 

The chapters are arranged in the order in which it is 
felt it will be most useful to read them. After seeing 
the point of view from which the subject is approached, 
the reader is introduced at once to the study of children, 
in the course of which study the problem of how^ to 



vi PREFACE 

observe the religious life of children is discussed. The 
latter part of the book deals with factors that enter 
into the education of children in rehgion. A bibhography 
and a considerable amount of fresh data are placed in 
the appendix. 

All who are familiar with recent psychological and 
educational literature will readily recognize the author's 
indebtedness to Edward L. Thorndike, to John Dewey, 
and especially to George A. Coe. Special thanks are 
due the publishers and authors who generously granted 
or confirmed permission to print various articles, poems 
and quotations, acknowledgment of which is made in 
the text. 

H. H. 

New York, 
April 1, 1919. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface v 

I The Point of View 3 

II Babies 7 

Foundations of the Religious Life 

III Five-Year-Olds 24 

Achieving Selfhood 

IV Observing the Religious Life of Children 45 

The Science of Child Study 

V Little Fellows Six to Eight 60 

Helping Children Grow in the Religious Life 

VI Likenesses and Differe;Nces 82 

Some Facts and Laws 

VII Boys and Girls 97 

The Religious Life of Later Childhood 

VIII The Transition 118 

From Childhood to Youth 

IX Our Inherited Equipment 134 

The Physical Basis 

X Our Inherited Equipment (Continued) 147 

Nature's Provision for Social Living 

XI Making Over Human Nature 155 

Factors in the Educational Process 

1. Action 

XII Making Over Human Nature (Continued) 167 

2. Thinking 

3. Worship 



viii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIII Motives 177 

The Fourth Factor in the Educational Process 

XIV Health 191 

The Relation of Health to Character 

XV Work and Play 203 

Psychological Relations 

XVI Work and Play (Continued) 217 

The Educational Use of Work, Play and Recreation ' 

XVII Character 229 

Discipline for Democracy 

APPENDIX 

I Things Children Do and Say 241 

Part I : Stories by an Eight-Year-Old Girl 
Part II : Incidents from Child Life 

II Bibliography 268 

1. On Problems of Method 

2. On Facts of Behavior and Growth 

3. Popular Books for General Reading 

4. The Moral and Religious Nature of Children 

5. Books Containing Data for Study 

6. References for the Several Chapters 

III Charts 276 

A. Form for a Chart of Social Development 

B. Coe's Syllabus 

C. Form for a Time Schedule 

Index 279 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 



CHAPTER I 
THE POINT OF VIEW 

Back of the milKons of money and the millions of 
men and women devoted to the welfare and nurture 
of the young, there lies a deeper interest than the love 
of children. This more insistent demand upon our time 
and effort is made by the call of the ideal society. To 
some, this is the perpetuation of the present social order 
through the passing on of all that is deemed best in the 
present and the past. To others, the future society 
takes more definite form in the picture of a purified 
nation, from which personal and poHtical corruption 
has been removed. Others see ahead a theocracy in 
which every individual shall have his appointed place, 
whether as subject to the will of a ruHng tradition, or as 
custodian and interpreter of this tradition and its sup- 
posed benefits. But more and more the minds of 
thoughtful people are being captivated by the vision of 
the New Democracy, the coming, not the old, social 
order, super-national, super-ecclesiastical, whose motive 
is love, whose ideal is the brotherhood of man, and 
whose destiny is the commonwealth of God. 

The child is in our midst in a sense far more signifi- 
cant than as an object of curiosity or of concern for his 
own future happiness. That his soul must be saved is 
only a half truth. To be sure it must, and precious is 
every son of man in the eyes of an all-loving God. But 

3 



4 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

saved for what? And saved how? There is something 
more important than the child whose soul we are intent 
upon saving — more important because without it 
there is no sense in which his salvation has any mean- 
ing, any more than has his present life. There never 
would be any soul to save were it not for the other souls 
in the midst of whose ministrations and in the presence of 
whose visible acts the '' candidate for personality f' is 
living and growing. The child does not exist in any 
'* pure '^ or unrelated or unattached way as an inde- 
pendent individual, but is in his very essence a one of 
many. Whatever may be the all-inclusive society, the 
ideal society, toward which we move, the individuaFs 
salvation must be related to it, and indeed must consist 
in some sort of permanent and all-to-be-desired life 
within it. Apart from the social whole, the personal 
life has no permanent meaning. 

To have made education completely child-centered 
was the splendid achievement of the nineteenth century : 
*^ The child's interests must rule, and the child's interest 
must determine the form of family and school life; all 
adult affairs must give way before the insistent demands 
of child-nature; King Child is on the throne and must 
be obeyed.'' That such a view contains fundamental 
truth no one will deny. But it is quite as one-sided as 
the previous reign of King Grown-up. The twentieth 
century has dethroned King Child, and is teaching him 
that he must take his proper place as a citizen with in- 
creasing rights and duties in the new democracy. De- 
mocracy is concerned, not merely with the separate 
interests of either children or adults, but with the in- 
terests of all persons, young and old, wherever they vnsiy 
happen to hve. 



THE POINT OF VIEW 5 

As this point of view is fundamental to all our suc- 
ceeding work, let us formulate briefly its various factors : 

'^ 1. Man has a destiny that is conceived to be some 
kind of superior activity. This superior activity is self- 
directed and essentially satisfying. Superior activity 
can be achieved only by experience in its two-fold as- 
pect of activity within the relation to be perfected, and 
reflection upon that activity and its purpose. 

'^2. Education is the process by which the ideals of 
man's destiny become gradually incarnated in the 
fabric of society and the characters of its individual 
members- Rehgion defines man's destiny as a social 
destiny, or a superior activity which is not only self- 
directed and essentially satisfying, but which is also 
socially motived. Man's social destiny is to be achieved 
only through social experience progressively understood 
and directed. Religious education, therefore, is the 
process by which the individual, in response to a con- 
trolled environment, achieves a progressive, conscious, 
social adjustment, dominated by the spirit of brother- 
hood, and so directed as to promote the growth of a 
social order based on regard for the worth and destiny 
of every individual. 

'' 3. The process of rehgious education takes place 
as the individual lives among people, comes into touch 
with the highest type of spiritual Hfe in the present and 
in the past, and responds to this life and this ideal by 
developing the habits, attitudes and purposes that serve 
to give range and direction to the constructive social 
tendencies, and to hold in check or direct or convert 
such tendencies as are destructive of the social good. 
Identical with the process of rehgious education is the 
individual's increasing participation in the worship, 



6 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

work and fellowship of the world, and his increasing 
contribution to its progress toward the social ideal. 

''4. In order that this development of the individual 
may take place, society must provide for every child: 

'^ a. A community dominated by the spirit of brother- 
hood, whose individual, cooperative and institutional 
activities in worship, work and fellowship he may 
imitate and share. 

'^ b. Within this community, definite training for 
skill in these activities, and in their intelhgent direction 
and control through study and discussion. 

" 5. The goal of rehgious education for the individual 
is thus seen to be the completely sociaKzed will, expressed 
in a life which is sharing increasingly in the knowledge 
and work of an eternal society, and in the joy of human 
and divine companionship — in a word, world-citizen- 
ship. 

^^ The goal of religious education for society is the 
reorganization of institutions and enterprises in such a 
way as to provide for all individuals the stimulus of the 
rehgious heritage of the race, and equal opportunities 
for health, education, work, play and worship — in a 
word, world-brotherhood."^ 

^ Religious Education, June, 1917. 



CHAPTER II 
BABIES 

Foundations of the Religious Life 

During their first three years, children are laying 
foundations of selfhood, of individuahzed personality. 
They are building up an experience with which to fare 
brth into the world. They are preparing to proceed 
mder their own steam and without orders. 

The Baby's Mind. It is hard for us to reaUze the 
itter emptiness of the baby's mind. WilUam James 
las somewhat ambiguously referred to the child's world 
is a big, blooming, buzzing confusion. But confusion 
mphes a contrast with an already organized experi- 
ence, and the baby has no such standard of comparison, 
ii'urthermore, we are conscious only of what we react 
o, and the baby reacts only to simple and selected 
timuU. His consciousness, so far as it exists, has to 
Lcquire definiteness. He has to learn to give more than 
leeting attention to any one thing. His mind is perhaps 
n something the same condition as ours is when we look 
.t a bright jewel so hard that everything else fades out 
'f our vision. We see and feel nothing but that jewel. 
Chat is all there is to our consciousness — as though 
• 76 were identified with the bright object and it were the 
-um and substance of hfe for us. Everything else is 
mptiness. Our consciousness has no margin. Now if 
^e can imagine this narrow field of consciousness to 
shift from one sensation to another, each sensation being 



8 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

for the moment the sum total of consciousness, we will 
approximate what the child^s mind must be Uke. It is 
very simple and vague, and probably chiefly a sense of 
pleasure or pain, of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. 

The repetition of experiences that satisfy and that 
annoy gradually builds up a broader mental field. 
There are memories and expectations as well as imme- 
diate pleasures and pains. Certain events, like having 
a bottle, are associated with certain other events, 
such as a feeling of hunger followed by a feeling of satis- 
faction, or with the appearance of the same visual, 
tactile and aural stim^uli caused by the approach and the 
voice of the mother. Certain bonds are being fixed 
between definite situations and definite responses, so 
that the repetition of the situations sets going the 
responses. At first only the whole situation effects the 
response, only the mother plus the bottle plus the milk 
plus the feeling of the strong arms and the sound of the 
comforting voice. But gradually the response of feed- 
ing is made or attempted to one or another part of this 
total situation. The appearance of the mother may start 
going the sucking motion of jaw and lips and the wriggle 
of arms and legs that show an expectation of being picked 
up. If no bottle comes with the mother and the baby is 
hungry, there is annoyance, and the baby cries, unless 
other satisfactions crowd out the disappointment. 

The Basis of Morality. Such simple bonds are 
being made in considerable numbers as the result of what 
grown persons do. The more regular the treatment 
by grown persons, the more quickly will the baby get 
meaning out of his experiences, and learn the signals or 
part-situations that indicate what is going to happen. 
If the display of the bonnet and the cheerful *' we're 



BABIES 9 

going out now/' is always followed by a ride, it will 
always mean a ride. If it is sometimes followed by a 
ride and sometimes not, it will not be understood, and 
baby will be confused and helpless or unresponsive. 
The same is true of all the other signals we give. Thej'' 
must be uniform to be intelligible and effective. If 
baby has learned from experience what the objectiona- 
ble, but common, '^ mamma spank '' means, and then 
the phrase is used as an unfulfilled threat, it will lose 
force as a means of control. Or if punishment follows 
some misdeed one day but not the next, or if the same 
punishment follows a wilful disobedience or harmful 
act as is attached to some harmless prank, the child has 
no basis for forming any independent moral standards. 
His world is arbitrary and erratic: he will be arbitrary 
and erratic. With no definite and recurring associations 
between conduct and standards of conduct, his action 
will be determined not by standards nor by habits, 
but by caprice or the effort to escape punishment. 
A moral being can be produced only by a moral 
environment. 

We all understand how our interpretation of new 

experiences is based upon our old experiences, how the 

old comes forth to meet and absorb the new. We see 

all things through the colored glasses of our experience. 

Each step depends on what precedes, and each step 

influences all that follows. The further back we go, the 

aore important, therefore, is our experience. If our 

irst experiences are with a harsh, unsympathetic, auto- 

ratic and irregular social environment, we grow up 

/ith this sort of an experience as our only means of 

iterpreting the world, and our whole life is warped and 

wisted because of it. It is exceedingly important, 



10 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

therefore, that every effort be made, from the earKest 
beginning of consciousness, to provide a sane, loving, 
just treatment, unvarying in its rules and promises and 
routine. 

The Basis of Self-Control. Such regularity of 
treatment not only provides the foundation in experi- 
ence for the growth of ideas of order and justice, but 
also establishes the definite habits that constitute, the 
basis of self-control. Before the age of four or five such 
self-control is, of course, rather mechanical. All it 
means is that this Httle bit of humanity will perform 
certain acts not only at the moment when his mother is 
present to require it of him, but also when she is not 
present. If in his creeping voyages of discovery he 
has, by proper training, acquired the habit of not touch- 
ing certain books on low shelves, he will refrain from 
touching them without physical restraint. If he has 
not acquired any such habit, he will have to be constantly 
controlled from outside and will lack the kind of experi- 
ence which can be developed as time goes on into con- 
scious choice of acts; for, as Royce says, one cannot 
choose effectively to do what one has not already done. 

In building up a world of order, where things happen 
in ways which can be anticipated, the child is laying the 
foundation of the sense of justice and of moral law that 
will come as he grows older. And in acquiring habits of 
regular and correct response to the regularly recurring 
situations of his limited world, he is laying the founda- 
tions of the self-control which his growing consciousness 
of self will one day recognize as his own. 

The Common Consciousness. Consciousness is a 
social product. What the baby is aware of is determined 
by what the mother and nurse and father and older 



BABIES 11 

brother and sister decide upon. He is fed and bathed 
and played with by persons who are themselves con- 
scious of certain things. The baby's consciousness is a 
reflection of theirs. His instinctive tendencies find 
expression in the channels which their minds have al- 
ready laid out. Everything he touches is a human 
product or is interpreted by the uses to which human 
intelligence has put it. His daily regimen on the basis of 
which he is gaining a sense of order and of goodness is 
planned by others. Whatever mind he has is so built up, 
therefore, as to fit in with other minds. His mind is 
other minds. Their consciousness is his, and he has no 
other. 

But it is not only in his notions about the world of 
things that he is reflecting the minds of others. He also 
picks up their attitudes and moods. Just what the 
mechanism of his emotional sympathy is is uncertain. 
It may be that the subtle facial expressions associated 
with elemental emotions such as fear are instinctively 
responded to by the baby in such a way as to arouse the 
same mood in him. At least he will frequently show 
signs of similar emotion even though the object which 
stirred the emotion in his elders is absent or entirely 
incapable of affecting him. At all events, the color 
of the family consciousness is in some way responded to 
by the children, and they either absorb it or react against 
it. They are happy when the rest are happy, sad when 
they are sad, nervous w^hen they are nervous, calm when 
they are calm, cross when they are cross. They are at 
one with the rest. Their consciousness is a common 
consciousness. 

Professor Kirkpatrick^ gives several instances of be- 

* The Individual in the Making, pp. 79, 80. 



12 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

havior which illustrate this reflection of the feeUngs of 
others : 

" Girl of fifteen months. Nearly always smiles, even if crying, 
when anyone smiles at her/' 

^' Girl of twenty-two months says ' cry ' in a pathetic tone when 
looking at a picture of some one crying. She did this once when 
only the attitude indicated grief.'* 

" Girl of two years. She heard some one say in an expressive 
tone, * I was scared when I saw how much oatmeal there was.' 
She dropped her spoon and seemed afraid of the oatmeal she was 
about to eat until reassured regarding it." 

'* Boy three years. His mother was uneasy, not knowing where 
his sister was, but said nothing about it and tried not to show it. 
Soon he said he wished he could see his sister, and finally, * I am 
not happy, Mamma,' evidently having caught the feeling from his 
mother." 

Premonitions of Selfhood. The process by which 
this common consciousness is broken up into parts 
corresponding to individuals is gradual. At first even 
the body is not distinguished from other objects. By 
getting a double sensation when touching one part of 
the body with another, as when the. hand hits the toes, 
a difference is distinguished which in time becomes 
standardized. It seems necessary, however, to have all 
sorts of sensations on every part of the body before the 
distinction between the body and other objects is com- 
plete, if it ever is complete. A child was observed to 
bump her head against her bed. Feeling her head in a 
puzzled way, she went up to the bed and bumped her 
head purposely. Another ckild of three bit her fingers 
till one bled to see if the fingers were a part of herself.^ 
Then comes the time when, sometimes seriously, some- 
times in play, the children look upon all objects as just 

1 Kirkpatrick, E. A., op. cit., p. 82. 



BABIES 13 

like themselves. Trees, animals, persons, dolls, all are 
treated alike, with the expectation that they can under- 
stand the usual signals by which wants are made known, 
and will do as they are told. This, however, may be 
largely, if not wholly, the result of the way others talk 
to children about inanimate objects and animals, as 
having thoughts and feelings, and as being able to talk. 

But the gradual growth of an independent train of 
memories, tied up with the individual tendencies to 
behavior that more and more emerge in consciousness 
as, '' baby wants this," or '' baby wants that," begins 
to reveal to the child that consciousness is not general 
but individual. Naturally he does not use these words. 
He just is conscious, now and then, of a difference. 
He has desires that do not all meet with approval. 
His activities are broken into by others. He is aware 
that people laugh at some kinds of acts and frown at 
other kinds. He discovers that among the signals he 
is learning to use there is one that refers to himself, and 
others that refer to other persons. This difference, 
between baby and mother, say, is at first the same as 
between kitty and mother. But around the idea of 
baby there come to be associated these thwarted desires, 
these approvals and disapprovals, so that these experi- 
ences become '^ baby^s " experiences. 

The next step, or better, the next stage, for it comes 
rather as the tide comes, in waves that roll farther and 
farther up the shore — the next stage is the '' I " stage, 
where the thinker becomes aware that the thinker's and 
the '' baby's " experiences are the same thing, set over 
against other thinkers or ^^ I's " who do not have the 
same experiences. This separation is never complete 
in any of us. In mob action, to which we all are sus- 



14 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

ceptible, this distinction between self and others is broken 
down, and the individual is '^ lost '' in the crowd much 
as he was when a baby. All of us are more or less 
'' suggestible.'' That is, all of us respond, without any 
inhibiting thoughts of our own, to many ideas and 
situations presented by others. We eat what is set 
before us. We dress as fashion dictates. We are 
colloquial in ideas and words and behavior. Out of 
this mass of suggested and uncriticized behavior the 
child slowly emerges to a certain level which he maintains 
till adolescence brings its new experiences to send the 
consciousness of self shooting still higher. 

These emergings of the consciousness of self begin to 
appear with the use of language. There is a good deal 
of the experimental about them, as though the child were 
playing with a new toy to see what it would do. With 
each new success in independent action, he gains more 
confidence, till one day he will deliberately ^^ disobey,'' 
just to see what will happen. 

If this separation of the self from the common con- 
sciousness takes place too rapidly, before there is suf- 
ficient experience to give it body and substance, there is 
danger that the child will become morbidly self-conscious 
— a person set apart, lacking in sympathy and unre- 
sponsive to the group life. When punishment, which 
usually disrupts the common consciousness, is not 
accompanied by some means of restoring the child to the 
common life, it is a deadly weapon, especially later in 
childhood. Continuous disapproval unreheved by a 
sharing of interests with a child is almost certain to make 
the child either ^' self-willed " or '' sullen " or openly 
obedient while inwardly rebellious. Too much atten- 
tion leads to similar results. Display before strangers, 



BABIES 15 

doing tricks to make friends laugh, being the center of 
interest constantly for any cause at all, carries in its 
train a host of problems in the achievement of a normal 
personality that ought never to arise. Far better is 
it for the child to come into the possession of himself 
through the normal processes of social Uving, in which 
adjustments to the group life are gradually made, and in 
which he is able to discover himself not as the cynosure 
of admiring eyes but as a member of a cooperating house- 
hold working together for some recognized common 
interests. 

As the child lays the foundation for self-control and 
a sense of an ordered universe through his regimen of 
daily Kving and consistent treatment, so does he lay the 
foundation for social-mindedness in the attitudes that 
he picks up from his associates and in the kind of a self 
that they encourage in him. 

Laying the Foundations of Religion 

1. The Sense of Justice and Order. The child's 
capacity for rehgion does not begin at any one moment. 
It comes gradually, just as his consciousness of selfhood 
comes gradually. The child can be reHgious just as 
soon as he can be a person and maintain a self-directed 
relation to other persons. But the nature of this child- 
hood reUgion, which comes into its own between the 
ages of four and six, depends on what has happened to the 
individual during the preceding years. His rehgious de- 
velopment may be greatly facilitated or greatly hindered 
according as its foundations are wisely or unwisely laid. 

The necessity of providing an ordered experience as 
the basis of a sense of justice has already been suggested. 
Children's minds work logically. Not distorted by 



16 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

prejudices, they go directly to a conclusion from the 
facts offered. A boy three years and eight months old 
prayed that God would make all the days Sundays so 
that papa would be home all the time. He had thought 
that all out by himself. This is an example of how babies 
put two and two together in ways that often startle us. 
The results are of course often absurd from our point of 
view, just as the ideas of savages seem absurd. But with 
the same data, the same vague ideas to work with, we 
would do about as well. Listen to people talking about 
something about which they know little or nothing, but 
about which you know a great deal! Women are amused 
at men's comments on dressmaking, and men heretofore 
have been amused at women ^s struggles to make sense 
out of a political platform, which, again, seems to the 
economist so stupid a document. It is not the com- 
ments of the imbecile that amuse us, but the comments 
of the intelligent upon an unfamiliar subject. So the 
children amuse us by their efforts to build a world out 
of nothing. 

Some sort of a world they are going to build, and it 
will be a reasonable world, a world governed by law. 
The law may be, '^ Insist on having your own way and 
you'll get it,'' or, " Wheedling pays," or, ^' Do unto 
others as they do unto you," or, ^' Crying hurries the 
bottle." Or it may be, ^' There's no use fussing," or, 
" To put away toys is part of the game," or, ^^ Trying 
always pleases," or, ^^ Penalties never fail," or, '^ Mother 
knows best," or, '' Love rules." It is hard to put into 
words the rudimentary ideas of babies. Yet they seem 
to understand far more than they can themselves formu- 
late, and can get meanings long before they can communi- 
cate meanings in words. From the day they are born 



BABIES 17 

their training begins, and the impressions are being 
made which will gradually broaden out into a knowledge 
of the world. If love never fails — or, failing, acknowl- 
edges its failure — if the grown-up world gives evidence 
of being controlled by a beneficent purpose and not by 
selfishness, if ^' to be good ^' is associated with the 
maintenance of the common consciousness rather than 
with the whims and fancies of petulant parents; in 
other words, if the child is born into and lives in a Chris- 
tian family, there is some chance of his waking up some 
day to find himself a Christian. God can mean vastly 
more to a child who has experienced justice and love 
than he can to a child to whom justice and love are 
foreign. To such an unfortunate, God, if the name 
be used at all, will be a word to conjure with, or a reckless 
and terrible Being to fear. There will be no possibiKty 
of aspiration toward the good, nor of the organization 
of the tender character in terms of an ideal person, unless 
there is some just, permanent and loving Standard in 
the child's experience to which he can refer, and upon 
whose approval he can count. And as yet, his standard 
is a person, not a formula. His associates, therefore, 
need more carefully to adopt something of the inflexi- 
bility, the decisiveness and uncompromising clearness of 
a definitely stated standard. Granted such an ideal 
environment, the child can easily aspire toward something 
bigger and better than himself and can conserve his 
achievements by his sense of parental approval. And 
this effort is, for the baby, religion. 

2. Foundations in Habits. Religion is more than 
aspiration and more than a philosophy of life. It is 
Ufe itself improving itself. It is mind at work upon 
the problem of being a person, of moving toward the 



18 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

achievement of the personal ideal. Spiritual progress is 
not made apart from the hard facts of every-day physical 
living. A good man is not one who spins beautiful 
ideals the while he curses his neighbor for disturbing 
him in the process. Character is physiological. It is 
an equipment as well as a purpose. It implies that a 
person can do what he would do. 

This moral machinery of living the child, too, must 
begin to build, if he is to acquire character. The babies 
in the cradles are, as a matter of fact, beginning to build 
this machinery from the moment they make any re- 
sponse at all to human beings, which is right soon. The 
foundations of long standing habits are being laid from 
the very beginning. If these foundations are weak and 
shaky in view of the building that is to be built on them, 
there will be a general disaster later in the form of a 
weak and shaky individual. 

The secret of our modern success in bringing up babies 
lies just in this definite training in habits that will counts 
for future living — habits of eating, sleeping, playing, 
waiting, and so on, that enable the child to take his 
place in the family life rather than make the family 
life take its place in the baby's daily schedule. Such 
harmonious functioning as will promote general good 
feeling is a distinct contribution to the kind of atmos- 
phere that favors the growth of Christian sweetness of 
temper. Regularity in daily living becomes conscious, 
and consciously desired, only if it is already experienced 
and found desirable. And if this regularity is a part of a 
family regimen, the emergence of it in consciousness will 
carry with it the recognition of the family regimen and the 
desirability of choosing to work with the family rather 
than against it. 



BABIES 19 

Those who have seen babies growing up with the ex- 
pectation of ^^ having their own way '' irrespective of the 
effect of their own way on others reahze how frequent 
are the disruptions of harmony, and how irregular the 
happiness of all concerned. License breeds license, and 
the process of overcoming the essentially self-centered 
point of view that is the outgrowth of such a scheme of 
life is exceedingly painful. A child brought up as one 
member of a cooperating group into whose life he is 
made to fit until the desire to cooperate is born of the 
satisfactions such cooperation brings has no such diffi- 
culty in adjusting himself to the common Ufe. He has 
acquired the habits on the basis of which his ideals and 
purposes, as fast as he becomes conscious of them, can 
be built into the structure of character. 

3. Foundations in Attitudes. No less important 
for reUgion are the attitudes that are generated in the 
child's mind during these early months of first experi- 
ences. The dehberate cultivation of habitual attitudes 
that characterize the Christian rehgion is entirely pos- 
sible if we apply the laws of learning to the process. 
Attitudes are the antecedents of ideas and purposes. 
They are our virgin responses to all that affects us. It 
is the attitudes of our friends that most interest us, not 
the words they use in expressing them. They can be 
expressed without words in the universal language of 
facial expressions and gestures. The expression, to be 
sure, can be imitated and assumed, but not the attitude. 
We need assurance of the way our friends feel toward uS, 
not of the way they think of us. Love covereth a 
multitude of sins. The open-hearted acceptance of 
friends is the basis of all liigher social intercourse. 

These attitudes toward persons and toward behavior 



20 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

begin to be formed very early. The flavor of family 
life is reflected in the faces of the little tots before they 
can talk. The disposition of good-will or the disposition 
of cantankerousness is easily cultivated by the way the 
baby is treated by mother or nurse, and by the way 
mother and nurse and father and brother and sister 
treat one another in the baby's presence. The preva- 
lence of unchristian attitudes in the family relation- 
ships is almost certain to promote the same attitudes 
and the same customary emotions in the heart of the 
baby. If their opposites can be made the law of the 
family, the baby will gain a tremendous start along 
the road of friendship and love that one day will lead 
into the City of God. 

Mrs. Mumford^ calls attention to the effect upon 
children of the prayer attitude of parents. The regular 
recurrence of the evening quiet time on going to bed 
begins to make its impression upon the baby before it 
can understand the words that are said. With the 
evening hour there comes to be associated the voice 
tones, the softened manner, the family hush and slowing 
down that are essential for the sober reflection of wor- 
ship. This should not be a sad hour, but rather one of 
renewed fellowship, in which the less boisterous, yet 
not unplayful activities, such as story-telling, singing 
and reminiscing, are the expected and enjoyable events. 
The mood that accompanies a true prayer by the mother 
at the child's bedside will find expression in the mother's 
subdued voice and in the subtle facial expressions to 
which children are so sensitive. And so the habit 
of the reverential attitude necessary to worship will 
be established as the accustomed attitude of bedtime, 

^ The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of the Child. 



BABIES 21 

making the practise of evening prayer, as the child grows 
old enough to pray by himself, a natural and easy thing. 
What a relief in contrast with the all-too-frequent bed- 
time complaints and outbursts of temper on the part 
of both parents and children! 

The morning, too, has its appropriate mood of joyous 
anticipation of the day's experiences. If this is real to 
the parents, it cannot help affecting the children — and, 
unfortunately, the reverse is equally true. Many a good 
hour is saved for work and play by the habit of alertness 
in the morning. The prayer of morning is a prayer of 
outreaching faith, and carries with it an exuberant and 
overflowing eagerness that colors the whole day's work. 
There is no room in such a mood for dawdling and fretting 
over dressing, which, to say the least, is distressing to 
everybody, and therefore an unsocial way of behaving. 
The early establishment of the opposite attitude as the 
morning attitude will go a long way toward preventing 
the growth of the characteristic dilatoriness of childhood, 
and will make it easier to invest the diflScult art of dress- 
ing and bodily care with a much needed interest. 

4. Foundations in Common Consciousness. Ref- 
erences have already been made to the maintenance of 
the common consciousness natural to childhood, out of 
which the individual consciousness emerges, and with 
which it is contrasted. The feeling of oneness with the 
group is one which comes after the individual has begun 
to become conscious of his selfhood. The appreciation 
of union is therefore simply an accompaniment of the 
appreciation of selfhood. They are two sides of a shield, 
and neither is possible without the other. 

Both may be distorted, however. The child's con- 
sciousness of self may be the outgrowth of an unsocial 



22 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

experience, in which case he will be himself unsocial. 
His sense of self will be developed in opposition to others 
rather than in cooperation with others, and he will 
become a misanthrope or recluse. His independence 
will be bravado and seK-glorification, or self-seeking, 
rather than deliberate self-effacement in the larger 
interests of the group life. 

As is his consciousness of persons so will be his qon- 
sciousness of God. God, the great Father, should at 
first be absorbed as part of the mental furniture which 
he unquestioningly takes for granted. God should be 
a part of the common consciousness, a member of the 
group. And when the transition to personal conscious- 
ness takes place, God should be individualized as well 
as father and mother, and in the same general way. 
That is, there should grow up a rapport, a consciousness 
of two selves who are yet in harmony with one another^ 
because they choose to be. As such common conscious- 
ness among individuals is maintained by common action, 
so it is with God. Doing as God does or as God wishes 
keeps up the feeling of union. Doing as God does not 
wish breaks the feeling of harmony and makes necessary 
a readjustment. If God is associated with all that is 
best, with all the childish aspirations and moral successes, 
there will be built up the foundations of a vital reHgious 
fellowship which can readily grow in meaning as the 
child's world grows. A universe that is at bottom 
personal rather than capricious is a universe which even 
a child can feel at home in ; and it is such an interpreta- 
tion of the meaning of life, I take it, which Jesus 
believed in and associated with the calm confidence of 
childhood in the goodness of everything. 



BABIES 23 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

Locate several children under five years of age, and, if possible, 
ranging all the way from a few weeks old, and make plans to observe 
these children occasionally when they are awake. Children passing 
by in their go-carts or playing in the parks or streets are just as real 
and just as interesting as when they are at home. 

1. What do these babies seem to be interested in? What do they 
do? Don't say they '' play." Say exactly what they do with arms 
and legs and voice. 

2. What do they take pleasure in? What causes them annoyance? 

3. Describe instances of apparent self-control or self -direction, 
recording the exact age, and the circumstances. Compare Case 1, 
App. I, page 254. 

4. Describe the social environment of the children you are observ- 
ing, from the point of view of the children. With whom do they 
come into contact? What do these persons do? How are the child's 
satisfactions and desires dependent on them? 

5. Read the cases of children under four in App. I, pp. 254-257. 
The following books will be found to be of especial service: 

Mrs. E. E. R. Mumford, The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of the 
Child. 

He F. Cope, Religious Education in the Family. 



CHAPTER III 
FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 

Achieving Selfhood 

Cooperation and the Discovery of Self. What the 
babies learn in the way of religious behavior they learn 
from their elders chiefly : by their efforts to put two and 
two together, making up their own little worlds of 
thought out of the fragments thrown to them from the 
great unknown world of grown-ups; by their attempts 
to please father and mother, and do what wins their 
approval; by their gradual discovery of the possibility 
of getting what they want by making use of people; 
and, finally, if they have been wisely trained, by their 
additional discovery that there are other desires besides 
theirs that are seeking satisfaction and that they are 
happiest when deferring to the desire of the home group 
as it finds expression in the family regime or in parental 
control. 

By the time a child goes to the Beginners' Class, he 
should be trying to make his adjustments to the group 
life. He should have at least occasional lapses into a 
cooperative frame of mind. By the time he has en- 
tered the second year of the Beginners' work, that is, 
when he has passed his fifth birthday and is in his sixth 
year, he should be habitually cooperative. Otherwise, 
his presence with the other five-year-olds is a disturbing 
factor and destroys the unity of the class. Ordinarily, 
then, the four- and five-year-olds should not be in the 

24 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 25 

same class in church school, and the criterion of advance- 
ment should be primarily the actual ability to take an 
intelligent part in the activities of the older children. 

The training we can give to the four-year-old is more 
of the type that he gets at home. It is a continuation 
of the older person's effort to help the youngster find 
himself and to find other folks. He is hovering on the 
threshold of true self-consciousness, and we must pa- 
tiently wait for him to enter, of his own accord, the 
larger world of real persons, before we confront him with 
the more serious problems of conscious social adjustment. 

The Enlargement of Experience. Coincident with 
this stretching of the child's social imagination is his 
entrance into a larger world. Home has been his sphere, 
or rather his home base, from which he took his frequent 
departure on long excursions into the childish world of 
fancy. But now come school, new playmates of his 
own age, teacher, the sight of older children at play. 
The world is not just father and mother and brother and 
sister and cousins. It is these plus, oh, so many, many 
children. Try to recall the first time you were in a great 
crowd such as gathers in a college stadium or a circus. 
How vivid were the people and how keen was your 
consciousness of the presence of humanity in the large. 
And so the child feels, when for the first time he walks 
into the kindergarten room with its twenty or thirty 
children, or sees the older children marching through the 
halls in never-ending lines to their various classrooms. 
No wonder the youngsters are at first dismayed. They 
didn't know there were so many people in all the world. 

At once upon entrance into this bigger world of 
children, the child's former world of toys and dolls and 
blocks and whistles and convenient father and mother 



26 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

takes on new meaning. These articles of the soH- 
tary play of imagination become spiritually marketable. 
They become the materials of social cooperation. They 
are also the interests of others and therefore the basis 
of a common interest through which the dehghts and the 
difficulties of social hving arise. 

The Clash of Imaginary Worlds and the Discovery 
of the Real World. The delights and difficulties are 
both real and both essential to proper development. 
Were it not a pleasure to play with others, the little 
conflicts of thought and feeling which spur the children 
to clarify their thinking would not occur. They would 
continue to play alone. And when the imaginary world 
of one is little by Httle brought into touch with the 
imaginary world of the others, the fancy-free way of 
thinking receives a check, and the children are all forced 
back upon their common experience with a common 
world of things and people as the final arbiter of truth 
and reality. 

The Cosmopolitan. The child's world is further 
enlarged by his seeing what other children do. Each 
one of these kindergarten children has been brought 
up in a home whose life he has been exclusively sharing 
and whose way of doing things he has been imitating. 
Now these different children, from different homes, and 
representing the characteristics of the different homes, 
all come together, and therefore bring into one room all 
their various interests and activities. Instead of having 
simply their own home life to imitate, the children 
now can imitate a great variety of behavior. Johnnie 
plays with his blocks in a most fascinating way, and 
Edward must do it just as Johnnie does. Likewise 
Edward's particular strut and puff as he pulls his train 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 27 

of cars is an accomplishment that stirs Johnnie ^s ambi- 
tion. And so the different ways of doing things which 
the different children bring with them are pooled in a 
common stock of experience and the whilom provincial 
member of the Tenny family becomes a cosmopohtan, 
brushing up against the Olsons and Smiths, the Mac- 
Dougals and Murphys, the Hahns, and Trabues, and so 
mingling not only the family traits but also the national 
habits that appear in the plays and games of the off- 
spring. 

Individual Interests and Their Submergence in 
the Group-Life. But the pleasure in doing what the 
other girl or the other boy does is not the only enjoy- 
ment of the five-year-old. He also wants to have his 
own way and to display his own talents. That is why 
he has something to be imitated. He does it his way 
first and shows the rest how. He wants his chance. His 
story must get a hearing. This is a wholesome thing, 
provided it does not mean simply the display of conceit. 
What we desire is that each child shall make his contribu- 
tion to the group life, and that his contribution shall be 
his own. 

The transition from display to cooperation is well 
illustrated by the responses of the different children to 
the teacher's request for illustrations of the subject of 
the story. One child gives an apt illustration from his 
own experience. Another cannot think of any, and so, 
apparently in a cooperative spirit, begins to tell a story 
of her own that has no particular relation to the subject 
under discussion. A third is insistent on reciting a 
poem entirely irrelevant to the theme in hand and with 
the obvious desire to show off. How to help the second 
child to make her contribution intelligent, and how to 



28 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

secure the cooperation of th€ third, are real problems in 
kindergarten teaching. 
Natural Tendencies and Characteristics. The 

^^ animal '' life of the immature human has analogies 
with the immature life of other species. There is the 
same deUght in multiform activity. The essential wrig- 
gle of the confined child is not a sign of degeneracy but 
of health. It is normal for a child of five to be active 
with his whole body. The finer control of energy, by 
which the larger muscles are allowed to rest while a small 
group of closely coordinated muscles — hand and eye — 
are kept in continuous operation, has not been attained. 
To draw a picture, therefore, requires the motion or 
tension of legs and trunk and mouth and tongue as well 
as of arm and hand and eye. 

But not only is action imperative; it is also impulsive. 
There are few pauses for reflection upon consequences. 
One act leads directly to another with little intervening 
thought. This does not mean the absence of imagery. 
It means that the mental hfe is Uke the observed physi- 
cal activity — a series of rather disconnected and play- 
ful images accompanying a series of rather disconnected 
and playful acts. As activity is playing with things, so 
thought is playing with images of play. It is not so 
much the object or scene that is imaged as the action. 

The story of the Little Blind Girl ^ was once told to 
a group of children including some six years old. The 
climax of the story, from the adult point of view, is 
where, for the first time, the child sees her mother's face. 
Yet not one of the younger children afterwards expressed 
any interest in this dramatic ending. It is not the 
mother's face but her action that interests most children. 

•'■ Lane, First Book of Religion. 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 29 

The famous Ketchup Story ^ well illustrates this 
playing with images: 

Once there was a man who ate ketchup. He ate ketchup on his 
bread and on his meat and on everything. He ate too much ketchup. 
His friends all said, '^ If you eat so much ketchup, you will be sick.'' 
But he kept right on eating ketchup. 

And then, one day, his arm fell off. But he kept right on eating 
ketchup. He ate ketchup on bread and on meat and on every- 
thing. He ate too much ketchup. And his friends all said, '^ If 
you eat so much ketchup, you will be sick." But he kept right on 
eating ketchup. 

And then, one day, his leg fell off. But he kept right on eating 
ketchup. He ate it on bread and on meat and on everything. He 
ate too much ketchup. And his friends all said, '^ If you eat so 
much ketchup, you will be sick." But he kept right on eating 
ketchup. 

And then, one day, his head fell off. And then he was scared. 
And he ran straight to the doctor. And the doctor looked him in 
the eye and said, '^ Young man, if you don't stop eating ketchup, 
something's going to happen to you ! " 

The Interest in Activities and Purposes. Kirk- 
patrick^ quotes the definitions which a four-year-old 
child gave of common objects: 

Ankle — means to walk with. 

Apple — means to eat — just to eat. 

Baby — it means babies that creep just like this. 

Ball — it means balls for playing tennis or anything. 

Book — A book you read. You're reading a book. 

Boy — Oh, boys — They're boys that walk of course. The boys 

go in the house and play and walk around. 
Chair — A chair means to sit in. 
Girl — Why, girl means to go to school. 
Hat — To wear on your head. 
Papa — To take care of you. 

1 The author does not know the source of this story and tells it from a single 
hearing of some years' standing. If it does violence to the original, he begs pardon. 

2 Kirkpatrick, The Individual in the Making, p. 163. 



30 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

More and more the imagination of children is taking 
in the future as well as the present. There is a growing 
sense of continuity and custom, and a growing interest 
in standardizing modes of behavior. The function of 
objects, more than their appearance, arouses their 
curiosity. This is a matter of no small importance to 
reUgious education. It offers a problem as well as an 
opportunity, however, for once the function of an object 
or mode of behavior is grasped, any change or enlarge- 
ment of the idea of what the object or act is for is 
difficult. The vividness of imagery apparently rejects 
changes automatically. Any stimulus, such as a story, 
which has once set going a set of images, must be told 
again in exactly the same way. The change of a word 
is resented, for it probably interferes with the imagery 
already fixed. 

Similarly, if a particular act has ever secured a pleas- 
ing result, the act will be carefully repeated when the 
same result is again desired, although there may be no 
logical connection between them. And if the expected 
result does not occur, violence is done to the child's 
notion of a stable world. 

A small boy was asked one day to say grace at table. 
It happened that his uncle, of whom he was very fond, 
was sick. So he said for grace, '' God bless Uncle George 
and make him well.'' That was a quite satisfactory 
way to meet this situation of having to say grace. And 
so, thereafter for some time, long after Uncle George 
was quite well, the boy's grace at table was, '^ God bless 
Uncle George and make him well." 

The advantage that the interest in activity and in 
standard activity or fixed forms gives us is of several 
kinds. In the first place, it is relatively easy to form 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 31 

habits of conduct. Behavior, as such, is prominent in 
the child's mind, and correct behavior, that is, customary 
behavior, is all-important. The child wants to do the 
right thing and insists that others shall also. How many- 
youngsters are shocked by the table manners of their 
fathers! But only when they have been taught some 
other way of holding fork or spoon. It is exceedingly 
important that the habits which are formed are correct, 
therefore, not only in the child's eyes, but in the eyes 
of the '^best people.'' The standards of behavior for 
the child must be Christian standards from the very 
beginning. 

In the second place, the interest in activity is, in 
germ, an interest in purposes. To be sure, the five-year- 
old does not form very extensive purposes. But he wants 
to know what things are for, what their behavior is, 
what they are used for by people. And he wants to 
know why he has to do some things and not others. 
Here is one opportunity to help the child make the 
beginning of a religious interpretation of his life and of 
the world. He is systematizing his thinking already. 
What kinds of purposes is he himself forming, and what 
kinds of purposes does he find others forming? From 
the Christian point of view, what are things for, and what 
is the reason for our behavior? 

The Parental Instinct. Besides the original ten- 
dency to activity of various kinds with its mental asso- 
ciates which we have been describing, there are other 
instinctive tendencies that provide fairly definite forms 
of behavior. The most significant just now is the pa- 
rental instinct, with its nursing activities. The child 
fondles and pets everything, including father and mother. 
This is largely automatic, and the mental reflections of 



32 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

this sort of activity gain definiteness only with an ex- 
tended experience of the results of this indiscriminate 
mothering. 

It is quite important, therefore, for the proper develop- 
ment of Christian habits of conduct and thought, that 
the parental instinct be given direction. The tender- 
ness of feeUng that apparently accompanies mothering 
activity must not be allowed to become sentim,ental 
or mushy. The desire to help must be made intelligent 
in its operation. The children must be taught to find 
satisfaction in activities that really help. That is, the 
relatively automatic acts of superficial helpfulness must 
gradually become purposeful. Delightful as is the spon- 
taneous and impulsive caress, we must not confuse 
it with true thoughtfulness, which has a conscious aim, 
namely, the interest of the other person. By emphasis 
on thoughtfulness for others, by encouraging the gener- 
ous impulse to work its way through a consideration of 
various possible generous acts to the selection of the 
act that best meets the other person's interest, we can 
gradually transform the blind impulse into a controlling 
purpose, which is Christian in its essence. 

A certain wise teacher of Beginners is accustomed 
to ask each pupil why he brings a penny with him. 
This is a puzzler for most children. If they have any 
idea at all, beyond the fact that mother said it was the 
proper thing to do, it is usually a general notion 
of miscellaneous and undirected helpfulness. But the 
pennies accumulate, and the question arises as to what 
to do with them. The teacher is not contented with im- 
pulsive answers, such as ^^ give them to the poor chil- 
dren.'' She desires an intelHgent grappling with the 
problem of giving. So as various definite objects of 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 33 

expenditure are suggested, she encourages an estimate 
of need, and tries to secure a judgment as to the relative 
needs of the different objects, and a real endeavor to 
find out how the money will cause the most happiness 
or do the most good. The bUnd generosity of the chil- 
dren is being transformed gradually into a wise Chris- 
tian purpose. One of the objects which is of particularly 
vital interest to this class of Beginners is the purchasing 
of milk for some babies in a near-by day nursery. The 
children understand the babies' need of milk and can 
be shown how important it is that they have good milk. 
Their parental tendency to care for these little ones finds 
a wise as well as a satisfying outlet in spending their 
savings in this way. 

Children's Fears. A great deal has been said about 
children's fears, and of their place in ^' primitive '' child- 
hood reUgion. Undoubtedly fear was a component of 
primitive man's religious experience. But we are no 
longer primitive, and the things that made him afraid 
are not the bug-a-boos of civilized man. One achieve- 
ment of the Christian reHgion has been to eliminate 
fear from the heart of man. Why should the child be 
dragged through the experiences of the savage, when, 
as we know, the child's native tendencies to confidence 
and love are precisely the central attitudes of Chris- 
tianity? 

That children have fears is true, though frequently 
these can be traced to the vicious stories of nurse-maids, 
or even to foolish mothers, who try to scare their chil- 
dren into good behavior. Better were it that a millstone 
were hung about their necks and that they were cast into 
the midst of the sea. A child once possessed by fear is 
in some degree always abnormal. The very structure of 



34 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

his brain builds itself around the acts and fancies that 
grow out of a dominating terror, and forever after those 
connections or habits of act and thought survive to 
destroy Ms peace and efficiency of mind. 

Our work as teachers of religion is to prevent any such 
fears arising and to disperse them as rapidly as possible 
by corrective teaching if they have already taken pos- 
session of the child. That religious (Christian) teaching 
is a powerful antidote to such conditions is well estab- 
lished. 

A pleasing result of teaching a child about the Father's 
care is seen in the following quotation from a mother's 
account of her efforts to train her daughter in the use of 
prayer: '^ She is a very timid child and has been afraid 
of imaginary things after she was in bed. This fall I 
have taught her to ask the Father to take care of her. 
She has done so and the fear has practically vanished." 
(Age, six years.) 

The Desire for Approval. One other strong ten- 
dency of childhood remains for our attention. It is the 
great satisfaction children of this age take in the approval 
of their superiors — parents, teachers, and older chil- 
dren — and the pain caused by the disapproval of these 
same associates. Here is a powerful weapon for good 
or ill. Out of it grows that desire for the approval of 
one's own best self, for the approval of the best selves in 
others, for the approval of God as he makes his will 
known through conscience and the demands of the ideal 
society. It is a dangerous weapon, however, for it may 
lead to the desire for popular approval, for the acclaim 
of the crowd, or for the insidious flattery of those whom 
we contemn. It may rest satisfied with what the lower 
self dictates, or it may be constantly vacillating between 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 35 

one master and another, seeking now one approbation 
and now another. A unified source of approval is 
essential for a unified personality, and this should be, 
of course, what we mean by the approval of God. Some 
such unifying will as is formulated in the idea of God, and 
some such unifying experience as is typified in the experi- 
ence of fellowship with an over-will, are essential for 
the achievement of that unity of soul which it is the func- 
tion of reHgion to secure. 

The Experience of God. The beginnings of the 
God-consciousness as they are taught by parents have 
already been discussed. The children in the Beginners' 
Department are not strictly beginners. They began 
their reUgious life before they came to the church school, 
and they bring with them also some idea of God. What 
should be the normal idea of God by the time the child 
is ready to enter the first grade? What sort of an ex- 
perience of God will promote this rehgious development? 

For we must not suppose that all ideas of God or God- 
experiences are helpful. Some may actually be irreUg- 
ious, as this instance suggests: 

'* A little girl of five years, during that period of the child's life 
when it exhibits more or less the tendency to run away from home, 
became quite a runaway and visitor to other homes in the com- 
munity, going at any hour of the day. 

" This habit came to be a matter of great anxiety to her parents 
and a nuisance to neighbors and friends. The parents tried various 
methods to overcome the habit. They admonished her but it did 
no good. Then they tried keeping her indoors but this did not 
avail for, after her periods of confinement to the house, sooner or 
later she would be off from home. As a last resort, her father in- 
structed the people in the community to ask Mary, his daughter, 
if she had the consent of her parents to go out a- visiting. If she 
replied that she had not, she should be refused admission and sent 
home. 



36 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

'^ Shortly after the above arrangements had been made by my 
friend with his neighbors, Miss Mary set out to go a-calling on 

a Mrs. J . When Mrs. J , on answering the raps at her door, 

found that it was Mary she immediately inquired if she had gotten 
her father's permission to come. On receiving the negative answer, 

Mrs. J asked if she had then obtained her mother's consent. 

Upon learning that this consent neither had been obtained, she 
asked her Kttle caller as to what she was doing there when she 
hadn't obtained permission from father or mother. ^ Oh,' repHed 
Mary, * I do have permission. I asked God before I came arid he 
said I could.' 

'' The child had been taught by the father to be reUgious, that 
is, in so far as he felt the child mind could grasp it, and particu- 
larly did he point her to God as the one whom we should all love and 
obey; and if we did, he would be our helper, and to him we could take 
all our troubles and difficulties and he would help us through them. 

'* She couldn't resist that strong tendency to run off, but as she 
must not go now without permission, she determined to go out on 
the campus in a corner and talk to God about getting the privilege 

to go a-visiting to Mrs. J . She claimed that she did explain 

it all and seemingly to her childish mind came the right, the privilege, 
to go, and on the strength of her conviction she went. 

" She had been taught that there was a value in prayer — that if 
she prayed and had faith, God would answer her prayer."^ 

Here is a child of five, who made use of God for 
unworthy purposes. Her God was distinctly inferior to 
her best self, though she regarded him as the final 
authority. 

There was evidently an error in this child's teaching. 
An unethical mystical experience was taught as superior 
to her own moral judgment. This child should be taught 
to associate God with her own best self, not her worst 
self, and through the wise regulations of her family life 
she should have found ample experience of God's good- 
ness and wisdom. Inasmuch as she was ethically, even 

1 See also Cases 12 and 19, App. I, pp. 258 and 262. 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 37 

though not physically, superior to her God, her God was 
not a part of her real reUgious life. This is the sort of 
God that will soon be cast aside as superstition, unless 
this girl's vital experience can be transformed so as to 
promote her own religious growth. 

On the other hand, many a child gets the idea that 
God is a great master-mechanic, doing astonishing tricks 
with stones and earth. The child can understand some- 
thing of the achievements of such a God, because he has 
tried to make mud pies. But if we expect to get a 
reverential attitude toward God (and apart from the 
attitude of reverence, the idea of God is not religious), 
we shall be disappointed. A small boy of three and a 
half who had been taught that God makes the wind blow 
was exceedingly annoyed at God for blowing his hair 
into his eyes. What more natural? But this is not the 
basis of reverence. Indeed, a more natural idea of God 
was possessed by the boy who, in trying to estimate 
God's abiUty, said, '^ Why, he's so big he could spit from 
here to the barn." The God of nature, of stars and 
infinite spaces, is an adolescent's God. He depends for 
his supremacy upon a breadth and depth of imagina- 
tion quite out of the five-year-old's range. 

No. It is not God the Santa Glaus, nor God the 
magician that supplies the reHgious needs of Beginners 
in reUgion. It is God the Father. Let us take our cue 
from the child's own interest in functions, in actions and 
purposes, in behavior. Let us interpret God to him 
through the behavior, not of things, but of people, and 
teach him to look for God in what men and women do 
when they are at their best. 

The unseen companions of childhood are well known — 
not simply fairies with Santa Glaus as the biggest fairy 



38 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

of all; but ordinary little sisters and brothers with whom 
the imaginative child carries on what seems to be a 
vital fellowship. The notion of God as an unseen com- 
panion is not a difficult one for childhood. But what 
should distinguish God, the great Companion, from these 
other inhabitants of his world? First, of course, he is 
distinguished by his purpose, which is not to bring nice 
presents to good children nor to keep it from raining on 
the Fourth of July. His purpose must be interpreted 
in appropriate terms at each step in the child's progress, 
as the establishment of the Family or Commonwealth 
of God. Jesus was insistent in emphasizing God's 
purpose for the present and the future in terms of a 
reorganized society, and a new kind of person, who comes 
into being because of his relation to this new society. 
So the child's God must be a God of love and justice, 
and every advance in the child's moral consciousness 
must definitely be capitalized in his idea of God. His 
God must grow in moral purpose as he does, else he will 
be cast aside or cease to be an instrument of religion. 

In the second place, the child's God is distinguished 
from his other unseen associates by the fact that he be- 
longs to the fellowship which he does see. Father and 
mother and teacher, brothers and sisters and class- 
mates, old and young ahke, all acknowledge this fellow- 
ship of God and frequently speak with him. Only by 
this consciousness of social fellowship can the idea of 
God maintain itself in the child's growing experience of 
the world, and only so can his idea of God grow with his 
growing social experience. 

^Prayer. This leads us to the problem of prayer as a 
means of religious development. Up to this time the 
child's prayers have been largely his mother's. He is 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 39 

trying to participate himself, especially in the^ family 
prayers, if he is so fortunate as to find them in his home. 
He has listened as his mother spoke with God at his 
bedside, and he has occasionally ventured to add a word 
of his own. But the need is growing for a more definite 
and complete fellowship, such as can come only through 
greater effort. 

The major part of the training in prayer belongs 
properly to the parents. Unfortunately this work will 
be left undone in most instances. Much will depend, 
therefore, on the way the church-school teacher handles 
this problem.^ 

This is not the place to discuss the methods involved. 
The principle, however, is clear, and is well illustrated 
by the following incident: 

Unsatisfied with the classic " Now I lay me,'' a mother sought a 
more natm-al prayer for her six-year-old son. The best she could 
think of was a modification which read as follows : 

Now I lay me down to sleep 
I pray the Lord me safe to keep, 
And when the morning comes again, 
Please help me to be good. Amen. 

The first time he used this prayer happened to be after an occa- 
sion of recognized moral delinquency. A smaU cousin wanted to 
play with the boy's Hallowe'en cap, but was refused permission on 
purely selfish grounds. After saying this prayer, the boy jumped 
out of bed, ran and got the cap and took it to his cousin, saying, 
" This is the way to be good." 

Defective as this prayer is in some respects, it at least 
was answered on the spot in a way quite within the 
comprehension of a child. 

Many children so love the repetition of the same words 

1 Teachers of Beginners would do well to consult Mary E. Rankin's A Course 
for Beginners in Religious Education, on this problem. 



40 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

that the thought-content is crowded out and the repeti- 
tion becomes a mere incantation. This mere chanting 
of words has httle if any value for the child beyond the 
momentary pleasure he has in saying the familiar form. 
The habit of saying the same form over and over again 
without thought as to its meaning may become so firmly 
fixed that the child may not dare to go to sleep without 
this ritual. This is of course mere superstition and is 
the farthest removed from Christian prayer. Many 
boys and girls on arriving at years of independence have 
suddenly waked up to the fact that they were saying a 
child's prayer every night which meant nothing to them, 
and, not knowing any more adequate ways of praying, 
have given up the practise altogether. 

Even the child who found so much help in the prayer 
quoted above soon got to using it mechanically. Its 
rhythmical form helped in this devitalizing process. 

A prose form, with more intimate touch with the 
child's Ufe, would help solve the problem. Here is one 
suggested by Professor Coe: 

''Jesus, when he was a boy like me, obeyed his parents; when 
he grew up he went about helping people, and was forgiving towards 
those who did him wrong. Help me, our Father, to be like him, and 
especially to be helpful to father and mother, to be truthful, and to 
be kind even to those who are unkind to me. Amen." 

Opportunity for the insertion of special reasons for 
gratitude, or special events of the day for which the need 
of forgiveness is felt, or special interests and aspirations, 
or petitions, is desirable. The best guide to the en- 
couragement of such intimate and personal relations 
with the Father is found in the mother's own prayer or 
in the family prayers, where the grown-ups themselves 
humbly confess their own shortcomings and their desire 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 41 

for a closer approximation to the ideal of life for them- 
selves and for every one. 

Children must begin to organize their lives about an 
ideal which has as its sanction fellowship with an ideal 
companion. The keenest punishment for a normal child 
is the loss of desired companionship. He is quickly 
affected by any changes in the temperature of the 
spiritual atmosphere. He can be helped to be sensitive 
also to the attitude of the divine Father whose will is 
made known through his own higher desires, and through 
the higher selves of others. 

The Child's Jesus. Teachers will ask, '^ What place 
has Jesus in the reHgion of a Beginner? '' Obviously, 
any attempt to indoctrinate the youngsters with a 
philosophical formulation of the place of Christ in sys- 
tematic theology is sublimely ridiculous. Fortunately 
it usually does little harm. But it may do harm by con- 
fusing the child^s notion of God. ^^ God is like Jesus,'' 
is a legitimate approach. But we find that Jesus' 
Godlike qualities can be understood by the child only 
through the medium of the child's own experience of 
these qualities in his own immediate associates. It is 
at best a secondary experience of God that the child gets 
if he must wait until he understands Jesus before he 
understands God. The simplicity of the gospel makes 
its direct appeal in present human life. 

On the other hand, the Beginners are beginners. They 
have a long future before them in which Jesus will take 
a more and more prominent place. Such stories about 
him as will win their interest and affection are, therefore, 
wholesome even at this early stage. The baby Jesus 
they love. It is with the baby Jesus they should begin. 
But let us not introduce hopeless confusion into their 



42 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

little minds by trying to get them to identify the baby 
Jesus with God, save as all babies are a manifestation of 
God in the love that they call forth. No wonder people 
are worried by doubts and difficulties when they are 
taught as children to pray to the baby Jesus for the 
gifts of fatherhood! 

The acknowledgment of the leadership of the man 
Jesus, Master of life, will come later, when the appeal of 
his wonderful personality will enlist the enthusiastic 
devotion of the hero-worshiper. It is sufficient for the 
present that the boy Jesus should himself exhibit to the 
child all that is desirable in childhood, and that his love 
for children, when he grew up, should be a familiar story. 
For so will the childish ideals gradually cluster around 
hiin, and the childish heart respond to the call of his 
affection. 

Summary of the Needs of Five- Year-Olds. Let 
us finally sum up the needs of youngsters of five which 
challenge the teacher of rehgion, and endeavor to formu- 
late the aim and method of our work with them. 

We must not forget the limitations in experience and physical 
equipment which determine the range of their activities. They 
can neither read nor write, but they can draw and sing and make 
things. They require activity, both physical and mental, for they 
cannot long remain still nor can they learn without doing things 
themselves. But their action must be directed so as to form habits 
of conduct which bear the Christian stamp. They do not respond 
readily to ideas of conduct, however. They need actual situations 
as stimuli to conduct, rather than aphorisms and proverbs and ser- 
mons. In forming notions of correct behavior, they need standard 
images of behavior in the form of stories and incidents embodying 
the desired behavior in recognizable form. But better than stories, 
even, is the conduct of teachers and pupils and parents, offering 
objects for imitation. As an offset to self-seeking tendencies and 
as a basis of Christian morality, they need the cultivation and ra- 



FIVE-YEAR-OLDS 43 

tionalizing of the parental instinct. They need habits of feeling as 
well as of conduct, — the cultivation of Christian attitudes in the 
relations of home and school. They need, finally, a definite social 
interpretation of self and of the world, reaching as early as possible 
a notion of self as one of God's children, and a notion of the world 
as a friendly place to live in, and a place in which people are trying 
to do what God, the All-Father, desires. 

The Purpose of Religious Education for Five- 
Year-Olds. To formulate our purpose briefly, then, it 
is this : 

1. To develop a Christian type of social response in action and 
attitude, within the child's limited environment, both real and 
imaginary. 

2. To assist him to a social interpretation of his environment which 
shall include God as the great Father of all. 

3. To assist the growing consciousness of self to come to a head in 
a self-consciousness which includes a recognition of the reaUty and 
the claims of other selves, as also children of God. 

The Essentials of Method Formulated. The 

essentials of our method can be formulated thus: 

1. There must be a cooperative group-life in the class in which 
all participate as best they can. The children must find some 
common enterprises, which carry out in one way or another some 
truly Christian motive. The best condition is attained when this 
enterprise is itself definite cooperation with others outside the class, 
whether in the rest of the school or with some neighboring family 
or with neglected or over-favored children or with children of dis- 
tant lands who are needed to enlarge the fellowship of the beginners 
and who also, it may be, need the loving help of our children. 

2. Intimately associated with this cooperation in many forms of 
activity is the training in worship, through songs and prayers and 
verses, that serves to assist conscious fellowship with the Father, 
and to identify the best the children know and desire with his will. 

3. And finally, there should be assistance from the teacher in 
the way of stories which embody examples of the desired conduct 
and which elicit the desired attitude and help to formulate the 



44 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

desired ideal — stories of action giving vivid experiences of animals 
or children or men in situations that are like those the pupils them- 
selves constantly meet. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Study the home and school life of a five-year-old and make a 
list (a) of conditions which favor Christian growth, and (b) condi- 
tions which hinder the same child's Christian growth. 

2. Compare the plays of five-year-olds with those of twelve-year- 
olds. 

3. How would you make the Christian idea of God vivid to chil- 
dren of five who come from non-Christian or unchristian homes? 

4. What ideas of God have you discovered among five-year-old 
children? How would you change these ideas? 

5. What play activities of five-year-olds can be made use of to 
promote growth in Christian living? How may these plays be used 
in a scheme of religious education? 

6. Read Cases 10-19, App. I, pp. 257 ff. 



CHAPTER IV 
OBSERVING THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OF CHILDREN 

The Science of Child Study ^ 

If the suggestions made at the close of the two pre- 
ceding chapters have been taken, the reader has by this 
time entered on that fascinating voyage of discovery, 
the observation of children. Probably certain of the 
difficulties that one meets in studying children have 
already been encountered. What shall we observe? 
What Hght will the things we observe throw on the prob- 
lem of the religious life of children? How can we make 
the best use of the results of our observations? Before 
undertaking the interpretation of the next period of 
growth, we will take time now, therefore, to discuss these 
questions. 

Selecting our Field of Study. Interesting as are 
all the facts of child-life, the needs of our study compel 
us to confine our attention to certain classes of facts, 
and, for the most part, to children who have passed the 
years of babyhood. So far as other classes of f-acts con- 
cern us, we shall have to take for granted a few general 
statements, or investigate their accuracy at some other 
time. 

How to study children is by no means a new problem, 
as the numerous results of such study clearly indicate. 
We wish to know what children do. We cannot look 
directly into their minds and see their thoughts and 

1 This chapter is based largely on an article by the author in Religious Education 
for October, 1915, quotations from which are freely made. 

45 



46 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

feelings, nor would these necessarily point to what they 
are going to do next, even if we could see them. The 
only insight into their thoughts and purposes we can 
get is through the observation of what they do, nor is it 
unreasonable to suppose that what they think is what 
they do. 

But all that they do is not of equal importance for our 
particular interest, necessary as is complete knowledge 
for a complete psychology of childhood. For such com- 
prehensive knowledge, so far as it exists, we must go to 
the standard works on child-nature. 

Our selection of facts for study is based on our interest 
in the child's religious development. It is his rehgious 
acts that most concern us. 

Religious Behavior. What we are trying to produce 
in our schools of rehgion is the Christian type of life. 
And our product for each successive year is a type of 
life as nearly Christian as we can make it, in view of the 
limitations of the pupil in capacity and experience and 
environment. It is at once seen that it is far easier to 
describe and test the final product, than to describe and 
test the steps by which this product is reached. What, 
for example, should be expected of a child of ten in the 
way of Christian attitudes? In this or that situation, 
what may we rightly expect him to do, as the result of 
his Christian training? We know fairly well what to 
expect of him when he is grown, but we know very little 
about what we ought to expect of him along the way. 
Until we do know, we shall not be able properly to formu- 
late our purposes with respect to each grade, nor to 
decide intelHgently upon just the methods and the course 
of study needed to produce this desired result. 

This does not mean that we have no aims, beyond our 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 47 

desire to have our boys and girls grow to full Christian 
maturity. Rather have we been obliged in formulating 
these aims to depend almost altogether on the knowledge 
of childhood accumulated by persons not concerned with 
reUgious development. We know a good deal about all 
sorts of behavior which is more or less involved in reHg- 
ious behavior. But our direct knowledge of specifically 
rehgious reactions of children is very hmited. 

Here are some illustrations of the sort of facts that we 
should try to gather. A story was told in the service of 
worship in a certain church school which aimed to de- 
velop in the children grateful appreciation of what 
mothers do for them without pay, and to stimulate the 
resolve to make their acts correspond with this sense of 
obUgation. That is, an effort was made to develop a 
conscious purpose to control their acts in accordance with 
an ideal. A seven-year-old boy had been in the habit 
of depending on his mother for help in dressing. One 
morning she was in a hurry and asked him to put on his 
stockings himseK. He refused, but finally suggested 
that he would if his mother would give him a piece of 
candy. His mother asked him how it would do for him 
to put his stockings on first and for her to give him the 
candy afterwards. He thought a minute and then 
decided that he would have to put them on anyway and 
not take the candy, giving as his reason the fact that the 
principal had told a story about being paid for things 
C' What Bradley Owed ^0- He could not reproduce the 
story, but the attitude developed by the story had found 
actual expression in his daily life, and he achieved a 
moral victory that would have been impossible for him 
without that experience. 

This, you see, is a brief description of a child^s reaction 



48 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

in a social situation. Now, suppose we had a thousand 
similar instances about children of seven, or of six, or of 
five. Would we not be justified in saying that self- 
control of the type mentioned can be developed in chil- 
dren of a certain age, to at least the degree described, 
provided proper aid be given? 

Shortly after a certain school adopted the practise of 
using unison prayers written especially for the children, 
the fourth grade pupils suggested to their teacher that 
they have a prayer to be used just in their own class. So 
the teacher said that any who wished might compose the 
prayer they thought would do, and bring it the following 
Sunday. Ten of the children responded, and quite of 
their own free will wrote out what they thought such a 
prayer should be like. Here are one or two of them: 

^' Our heavenly Father, we thank thee for all the things thou 
givest us. We have sinned many times but we hope thou wilt 
forgive us. You have given us our earthly mothers and fathers, 
our eyes to see with, our nose to smell with, our arms and hands to 
feel with, our legs to walk with, our ears to hear with, and our 
mouth to eat with and many other wonderful things. 

" We thank thee and wish thee to help us to use them in the right 
way. 

" This we ask in Jesus' name. Amen." 

" Dear Lord, help us to be good, and help us to have sweet tem- 
pers, and be kind to all people who are worse off than we. Please 
help us to be satisfied with all we have. And please give us all we 
need. Please forgive us all our sins, for we are sorry for all the 
wrong we do. Sometimes we know we're doing something wrong, 
and then we are very sorry; other times we forget. We thank thee, 
heavenly Father, for all you have given us. All the toys that we 
have, our lovely homes, and the good schools we are sent to, and all 
the food and clothing we have. And we thank thee heartily for our 
fathers and mothers whom thou hast sent to care for us, and we pray 
that nothing may happen to them. Amen." 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 49 

From a study of these two prayers no assured facts 
as to the rehgious capacity of nine-year-olds can be ob- 
tained. It is clear to see that at least these children, with 
their particular background of experience, showed evi- 
dence of certain definite religious needs and appreciations. 
But supposing we had a thousand such prayers, prepared 
under conditions accurately described, w^ould we not be 
able at least to suggest a few preliminary standards con- 
cerning certain attitudes we may expect to develop in 
children of nine years? 

One more instance. A class of fourteen-year-old boys 
started the year with the readiness to discuss and the 
reluctance to do that are so often the despair of teachers. 
It did not seem as though the problems of Christian con- 
duct that they took up in class had any intimate relation 
to their own practises. Religion and life were things 
apart. But in three months the whole situation had 
changed. Calls for sympathy and help from classmates 
or from persons in distress were no longer disregarded. 
Those who had been quite indifferent early in the 3^ear 
became now enthusiastic volunteers in every enterprise. 
And best of all, they all saw why they were doing these 
things. They were consciously putting their new-formed 
ideals and principles into practise. They were making 
experiments in religion and were discovering that re- 
ligion and life are one. 

We are not now discussing methods of teaching. 
But suppose we had a complete description of how that 
teacher went to work, of the subjects discussed, the ideals 
formed, the purposes carried through; and suppose a 
thousand other teachers should record similar observa- 
tions — would we not have immensely valuable informa- 
tion as to the possibilities of boys of fourteen? 



50 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Let us now define what we are to have in mind in our 
study of religious behavior. We are interested in reUg- 
ious reactions. But how are we going to know a 
religious reaction when we see it? Let us recognize at 
once that we are not trying to distinguish moral from 
reUgious acts so as to cultivate one apart from the other. 
In point of fact, they cannot be so separated in practise. 
This is an age of social rehgion and rehgious morahty. 
Rehgion finds its highest expression in an ideal, perma- 
nent, social relation, and morahty finds its sanction and 
motive in religious experience. The rehgious quahty 
of an act is not to be discovered by observing the act, 
simply. Rather do we assign it a rehgious quahty when 
we know its relation to the individual's past acts, his 
values, and purposes. It is when a person's acts are 
expressions of his highest purposes, the means to the 
attainment of his highest values, that we call them 
rehgious acts. 

Acts which in themselves have no rehgious quahty 
may become rehgious acts, when, in the mind of the 
individual who performs them, they are consciously 
related to the work and fellowship of the divine-human 
society we call the kingdom of God. A man is rehgious 
just to the extent that his whole being responds to the 
world of things permanent and things ideal. NaturaUy, 
all men do not have the same ideals nor the same no- 
tions of what is real, and of what is of most worth. 
That is why we have the Mohammedan rehgion and the 
Hindu rehgion and the Christian rehgion, the rehgion 
of the child and the rehgion of the adult. The child is 
a Christian only in so far as his acts are controlled by 
the ideas and values we call Christian; but he is rehg- 
ious in so far as he is capable of organizing his whole 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 51 

being around what is conceived by him to be of most 
worth. We have, thus, two types of growth in religion. 
One is growth in capacity to form and carry out purposes ; 
the other is growth in the quahty of purposes formed 
and the quahty of the ideals and values with reference 
to which they are formed. What we need to know is: 
What sort of working ideals do children have, and can 
children have, at various stages of growth? 

So we have to consider such questions as these : 

1. How does the child behave in various social situations? 

2. What is the relation of his behavior to his consciousness of 
what ought to be done in these situations? 

3. What purposes does the child form? Does he carry them out? 

4. What is the child's idea of God? What place does God have 
in the child's experience? 

5. What does the child value most? What experiences, or things, 
or relations, does he regard as of most worth? 

If questions of this character could be asked concern- 
ing a great many children of various ages, and the 
answers could be properly tabulated, we would be 
in a fair way to state the degree of Christianity 
that one might expect of any normal child at the 
age given. 

But this does not tell us how much progress a child 
ought to make under given conditions. 

In order to discover this, it would be necessary to 
check up the results just indicated by a study of individ- 
ual children covering a period of time. That is, in 
order to measure progress one must know the state at 
the beginning and at the end of the period in question, 
and compare the two in such a way as to show the 
difference between them. The account of the class of 
high-school boys was such a study. With good teaching 



52 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

it was found that certain customary opinions concerning 
the relation of religion to life could be completely re- 
versed in a stated time. The same sort of observation 
should be made on a great many different matters and 
with a great many different children, in order that the 
amount of growth and progress proper to each of these 
matters in a given space of time and with individuals 
under different conditions may be ascertained. 

The General Principles of Observation. So much 
for what we shall observe. But how shall we go at it? 
All we can do here is to outline the general principles 
involved and sketch a method for discussion. 

First, as to principles of child-study. There is a 
large amount of data on children's ways that is almost 
worthless because it is incomplete in one respect. We 
are told, for example, that at a certain age a child has a 
tendency to get angry; at another age he develops a 
tendency to fear; at another age he is capable of love and 
hate. But unless we know under just what conditions 
he is angry or afraid, or just what he loves and hates and 
what experiences lead up to his loving and hating, then 
the mere knowledge that he is capable of anger and all 
the rest is of little use. The first principle in observa- 
tion is, therefore, to observe the situation, as well as the 
act or idea that is called forth by the situation. In studying 
a child's prayers, for example, it is not enough to say 
that the child said this or that. It is necessary to record 
also the experience that led up to his saying this or that, 
and the character of the total situation in which the 
prayer was said — the mood, the attitude, the experi- 
ences of the day, the suggestions of the mother, and so 
on.^ 

^ Cf. the instance in Chapter III, p. 39. 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 53 

The second principle is this: To discover if possible 
the relation of the act observed to the child^s notion of why 
he did it. We are not content to develop automatons 
which perform the desired acts at the proper time. 
We want intelHgent human beings, acting in accordance 
with self -chosen purposes, and with understanding of the 
relation of their acts to the social group of which each is 
a member. The boy referred to in Chapter III, who 
gave away his cap, had a motive for doing so. He did 
it because he knew it was expected of him as a member 
of that little society of which God and Jesus and father 
and mother and playmates were all members. We 
might wish that he had been generous also, but for him 
this act represented a motive higher than mere good 
feeling. It was the attempt to carry out a self-chosen 
purpose to be obedient and kind as God^s child should 
be. It is this attitude of mind that gave this act its 
religious quality. 

Attempts should be made to discover motives, and 
purposes, and ideals, and notions of right and wrong, and 
of other social relations, not by guessing, but by making 
more observations, by observing the total reactions of a 
child to whole situations. 

The two principles so far mentioned — to regard acts 
as responses to situations, and to note, if possible, the 
relation of the acts to purposes and values — are con- 
cerned with the methods of observing isolated acts. The 
accumulation of facts of this character would be of great 
value for certain purposes; but it would be of only slight 
use for precise description of the lines and periods of 
growth unless checked by a study of the growth of in- 
dividual children. Given such and such a degree of 
skill, how long should it take to acquire such another 



54 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

degree of skill? Or in view of this child's previous train- 
ing in rehgion, what ought we to try to accomplish with 
him during this church-school year? 

An approach to the solution of this difficult problem of 
individual rates of growth will be made if we can plan 
our observations of religious reactions to cover definite 
periods of time. We will describe what a child does in 
a given situation in November, and then find out what 
he does in a similar situation in April, and compare the 
two reactions, not forgetting to indicate the influences 
that have been brought to bear upon him between these 
dates. And so we have the third principle of study: 
To observe the reactions of a child to similar situations at 
different times. 

Guiding Rules for Observers. It will be helpful to 
indicate in a few brief rules how these principles of obser- 
vation will affect our own study of children. 

1. In making an observation, record the date, the age 
and sex of the child, and some key, such as the child's 
name or initials, by which the observation can later be 
referred to or identified. 

2. The home life of a child is usually a determining 
factor in his rehgious and moral reactions. If possible, 
therefore, observe and record how reUgion is treated in 
his home, and what the general conditions are. What 
are the religious attitudes and habits of each parent? 
Is religion talked about in the home? What is said 
about it? Describe the family worship, if there is any. 
What type of reUgion is characteristic pf those employed 
to attend the child? What is the method of family 
government and discipline? What are the intellectual 
interests of the home? About how much is the family 
income? 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 55 

3. Exclude from the record of observations all items 
of hearsay. 

4. Distinguish between what is observed and what is 
inferred. We can not observe emotions, ideas, motives, 
or choices in others. We can only observe acts and words 
and other modes of expression, and the consequences and 
products of a child^s acts. Exclude opinions such as 
*' One day when Oliver had been naughty '^ — say what 
he did. 

5. Record ordinary as well as extraordinary conduct. 
We need to know what any ordinary child may be ex- 
pected to do and say under ordinary circumstances. 

6. With the record of an act should go a careful state- 
ment of the situation in which the act occurred. By 
^' situation '' is meant anything that throws hght on 
what he desired, attempted, enjoyed or disKked, thought 
about, meant by his words, and why he made just this 
reaction rather than some other, e. g., where was the 
child? who was present? what was going on? what had 
the child been doing immediately before? what had been 
said in his hearing? what previous experience had he had 
of such situations? 

7. Observe a child under as many different situation^ 
as possible. In this way one reaction will throw Hght 
upon another. The most valuable records are those of 
the same child over a period of years. 

8. Get hold of diaries, journals, letters, stories written, 
drawings, and the Uke, that throw hght on the child's 
moral and religious growth. Photographs showing chil- 
dren doing any spontaneous act are of great value. ^ 

^ Readers may be interested in a pamphlet called Cooperative Study of the Relig- 
ious Life of Children, which contains a set of valuable questions for the guidance 
of observation. It is printed by the Religious Education Association, 1440 East 
57th Street, Chicago, and will be sent free on request. 



56 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Experimental Observation. Suppose hundreds of 
cases, such as those suggested here, were to be accumu- 
lated and classified by types of situation and types of 
behavior. It would be discovered that a few children of 
a certain age were capable of behaving in a certain way 
under certain conditions, and in another way under 
other conditions, and so on, through every type of be- 
havior reported on and for each age. A list of observed 
behaviors would result. But are these behaviors char- 
acteristic or normal? The only way to find out is to try 
out a lot more children and see what proportion of them 
behave in the way indicated for the appropriate ages. 
By repeating experiments and changing the tests, a set 
of standard types of behavior would gradually be de- 
veloped for each age of childhood, so that we could say 
confidently, '^ Eighty out of one hundred children of 
professional parents will, by the second birthday, be 
able to ignore books on the lowest shelves, or at least will 
not touch them when requested not to ''; or, ^' Seventy 
out of every one hundred children of all classes will 
possess a similar self-control.'' And so on, through a 
long list of typical situations of childhood. We would 
know that the twenty or thirty per cent of children who 
could not do this are to this extent below standard and 
need special training or patience. 

It will be a long time before such laws of behavior will 
result from the study of children. Meanwhile, the best 
we can do is to accumulate facts and classify them as 
best we may. The following ways of putting together 
things that belong together are suggested : 

System in Observation. Students would do well 
to have a child-study notebook, loose leaf. This should 
have a sort of daybook and ledger arrangement, so that 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 57 

the facts concerning different children can be kept 
separate, and facts concerning the same type of behavior 
be assembled. If only one child is being studied, the 
diary-form is satisfactory, with the separate obser- 
vations carefully listed. If several children are being 
studied for any length of time, each should have his own 
pages in the notebook. 

As far as possible, each complete observation should 
occupy a separate page so that it can be easily removed 
and placed with similar observations for purposes of 
comparison. This necessitates some simple system of 
identification, so that pages once removed can be easily 
reassembled. Such a method is represented below. 

Age Sex Date Classification 

Name or Identification 



Significant facts about child's family 

Significant facts about child^s home life, etc. 



What the child said and did, and the occasion, i. e., the situation 
and the response. Include all essentials, not forgetting: persons 
present, previous happenings, the time and place. 



But some guide to constructive thinking about the 
facts observed is needed. We should have a scheme 
or diagram on which to hang our facts. This diagram 
should approximate wholeness and comprehensiveness, 
so as to avoid our getting into the habit of thinking of 
the child as a diagram or as made up of various qualities 
and abiHties. Further, the emphasis in this chart 



58 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 



should be on the child's behavior in its setting. The 
bare bones of such a scheme will be found in Appendix 
III, Chart A. 

Various summaries of facts by which groups of differ- 
ent ages can be compared more definitely are also help- 
ful, e. g.. Question 1, below, would secure the detailed 
information on the basis of which a chart Uke the follow- 
ing could be prepared. 



THE WAY BOYS SPEND THEIR TIME 

The time, in hours, is the average per week for those reporting 
the activity. 

AVERAGE HOURS FOR NUMBER REPORTING 

ACTIVITY THOSE REPORTING IN EACH GROUP 

Age groups: 12-14 15-17 12-14 15-17 

Asleep 70.4 63 14 7 

Awake 97.6 105 14 7 

At Home 35.6 34.5 14 7 

At School 33 27 14 6 

Study 8 10.4 14 6 

Church School 1.5 1.5 11 6 

Study for Church School. . . 0.3 ? 

Special Lessons 4.5 1.5 7 2 

Entertainments 5 7.3 5 6 

Housework 2.3 1.5 4 3 

Business 1.5 1.5 1 1* 

Indoor Play 8.6 6.4 7 5 

Outdoor Play 11.7 8.5 14 7 

Meals and Dressing 14.5 14 14 7 

Miscellaneous 6 4.5 4 2 

Unaccounted for 9 9 11 7 

*0f those in school. 

Help will also be found in E. P. St. John's chart/ 
and in Coe's chart reproduced in Appendix III. 

1 A valuable Chart of Childhood, published by The Pilgrim Press, Boston. 



OBSERVING RELIGIOUS LIFE 59 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Secure detailed time schedules from as many children as 
possible (one is better than none), and summarize your findings as 
shown above, under '' The Way Boys Spend Their Time." A con- 
venient form for recording facts is shown in Appendix III, Chart C. 

2. If you have any other way of thinking of '' religious acts " 
than that described in this chapter, write out your point of view and 
give illustrations of acts you would prefer to call religious. Analyze 
the illustrations. 

3. Visit a child at home and then at school and compare his 
behavior in the two situations. How does this child behave in 
church school? What is the relation between his behavior at home 
and at either school? 

4. Start a collection of children's prayers. 

5. The following references will be found useful at this stage of 
our study: 

George A. Coe, Education in Religion and M orals ^ Chapters I 
and II. 

George A. Coe, A Social Theory of Religious Education, Chapter IV. 
E. A. Kirkpatrick, The Individual in the Making, Chapter I. 



CHAPTER V 

LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 

Helping Children Grow in the Religious Life 

General Changes of Mind and Body. By the 

time a child is in Grade I, he will have become fairly 
steady in his grip upon the real world of persons and 
things. Some children, to be sure, seem to let go of 
their imaginary world with difficulty, and confuse the 
fanciful and the actual for a long time. Others are 
excessively matter-of-fact and find no pleasure in flights 
of fancy. They want hard facts and cold truth. Most 
children, however, still enjoy fairy stories, and, while 
not reaUy believing them, can enter into the spirit of the 
tale with whole-hearted enthusiasm. They ^^ play up ^' 
easily and respond with ready feeling to the lead 
of teacher or pupil. This readiness to respond in all 
sorts of unexpected ways to all sorts of unforeseen stimuli 
is a perplexing problem for the teacher. With active 
minds and bodies, the seven-year-olds, unless subdued 
by an oppressive school or home life or by weakness, 
offer a fund of exuberant vitality which only waits the 
guiding hand of the teacher to be transformed into con- 
trolled cooperation. 

During these years, most of the children will learn to 
read and write and figure. But reading and writing are 
not yet so well under control as to be economical means 
of expression. It is not in the control of the finer 
coordinations needed for free use of eye and hand that 

60 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 61 

growth is most conspicuous. It is in the use of arms and 
legs that most progress is made. Watch how much more 
sure-footed and vigorous the eight-year-old is than the 
five-year-old. The Uttle fellows seem very small to be 
sure when compared with those of ten or twelve, but 
they are far more able to care for themselves than they 
were three years before. Running games are favorites. 
Tag is universal. Just to chase another is a deHght, 
and of equal excitement is it to be chased. 

Physical Limitations. But it is easy for these Uttle 
fellows to overdo. Their love of activity goes beyond 
their endurance, and they finish many a day quite worn 
out. This is partly due to the fact that their hearts and 
lungs have not developed as rapidly as their locomotive 
powers, and so cannot keep up the strain of constant 
recuperation from muscular fatigue. Care must be 
taken, therefore, that older children do not tempt 
the younger ones to play beyond their strength. 

Growing Stability and Self -Control. Coupled 
with this growth in size and control is the growth of 
experience with things and people. Part of the increas- 
ing stability is due simply to the fixing of habits, the 
achieving of particular skills in acts that heretofore have 
consumed much time and energy. It is no longer a 
supreme task to get dressed and undressed. The friction 
of conflict of desires is lessening by the achievement of 
a social consciousness that recognizes the superiority of 
the group and by a gradual accumulation of habits 
of adjustment which ehminate conscious strains and 
efforts. Obedience to the customs of the family fife, 
if these are wise, should be fast becoming automatic. 
The increasing desire to ^^ stay up,'' for example, should 
be anticipated by creating a delight in the regular bed- 



62 CHLDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

time hour. The crystalizing of routine should reUeve 
the impulsive and whimsical Uttle fellows of the tyranny 
of their own caprice. 

Growing stabiUty is due also to an increase in the 
accuracy of images of conduct, and the increasing con- 
trol of conduct by practical concepts which assist in the 
recognition of famihar elements in new situations and 
in calling out appropriate responses. The ^' cues '' 
to proper action are increasing in number, and less and 
less is the child dependent on the unintelUgent impulse 
of original nature. In other words, the children are 
accumulating a stock of experience on which they can 
draw, and on the basis of which they can interpret and 
control the future. 

The Purposeful Organization of Acts and In- 
terests. To just what extent purposes can be formed 
and utihzed by children of six, seven and eight we do 
not fully know. Nor do we know just the nature of 
the purposes that are most effective in controlling con- 
duct. We do know that even more than with adults 
the actual connections between ideas and acts must be 
made in experience if ideas of acts are to serve as agents 
of control. The child who cannot stop an impulsive 
tendency and cannot anticipate in imagination the 
consequences of various possible reactions and choose 
among them is not yet capable of rehgious behavior. 
He is moving not toward organization, but toward dis- 
organization of life. 

The boy learns the uses of tools by watching and help- 
ing his father use tools. The girl learns the purpose of a 
broom by having a broom of her own with which she 
can perform the same acts that her mother performs. 
In the same way, the boy learns to foresee results and 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 63 

adapt means to ends by participating with his father in 
an enterprise which involves planning toward a desired 
result. The girl discovers her mother's purpose in the 
cleanHness of the room by sharing in the work of making 
two square feet of the room clean. These are simple 
elements in a complex sharing of purposes and plans with 
the whole family and with other cooperating groups of 
children and grown-ups, by which the child acquires 
social experience and social purposes. 

The Broadening of Human Interest and Contact. 
The range of the social contacts of children in the 
elementary grades is of course much broader than that 
of the Beginners. School life is more complex. The 
street is more often accessible, and for too many children 
it is the only playground. The little fellows are learn- 
ing to buy things in stores, and so they meet in a con- 
crete way certain real economic problems and problems 
of social adjustment. They ride on the cars, they see 
the postman make his rounds; the same deUvery boy 
that brings things to eat to his home is now seen pushing 
his cart or driving his horse ; and the goods that used to 
appear mysteriously on the table are now seen piled up 
on counters and purchased by buyers of every descrip- 
tion. 

The imaginary world is also enlarging by the increasing 
fund of stories and incidents listened to in school, at 
table — and from under the table when nobody knows 
that the big ears of the httle pitchers are keenly on the 
job. 

Intellectual Interests. A growing curiosity about 
things and people makes instruction relatively easy 
up to a certain point, but beyond this point it becomes 
relatively hard. For the interest of childhood is various, 



64 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

not persistent. Quickly satisfied with an easy and 
shallow explanation, the children of fortune become 
blase and all-wise, and for them there is about some 
topics ^' nothing new under the sun.'' 

Guiding the Instincts. Intellectual life, in other 
words, is relatively of minor importance. The working 
out of great physical instincts makes an irresistible 
demand upon attention and interest, and the training we 
provide largely concerns the proper guidance of these 
tendencies in channels of valuable experience. The 
unorganized games of childhood in which every man is 
for himself yet without keen desire for victory provide 
splendid training in muscular control and afford also 
an experience in at least a limited cooperation for a 
good time. The very limitations in the capacity for 
team-play call attention to problems of adjustment 
and to the underlying conditions of having fun together. 
The parental instinct can be directed into channels of 
social usefulness as an antidote to the tendency to tease 
and annoy, while the teasing can be brought vividly to 
consciousness as an undesirable type of activity by a 
social scorn which deprives the offender of the right to 
cooperate in the common fun. 

The Educational Value of Imitative Plays. Be- 
yond making use of the instinctive activities mentioned, 
however, we have a splendid ally in the dehght children 
take in representing the activities of their elders. By 
playing at housekeeping, at buying and selling, at 
school-teaching, and so on, the children acquire a basis 
in experience for a better understanding of these social 
enterprises, and a group of habits that makes more con- 
scious cooperation easier. But this more conscious co- 
operation should not be postponed. The spirit of play 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 65 

is not destroyed when the children can be made to feel 
that playing at keeping house may be of real value to 
the family life. It all depends on the degree to which 
the older members of the family can put the play spirit 
into the round of household duties. Why should not 
parents and children together play at their work, the 
elders entering into the reaUty of the child's world of 
play and the children catching the spirit of the game of 
life from the good sportsmanship of father and mother? 

The Development of Attitudes. What the family 
does and feels determines chiefly the social development 
of the children of this age. The principle of learning 
the acts and purposes connected with the use of things 
through cooperation with others who are using things for 
a purpose appUes also to the learning of the forms and 
purposes of Christian behavior. The Christian attitude 
is caught, just as the unchristian attitude is. Children 
are not naturally snobs. Though some may be born 
snobs, most of our little snobs have had snobbishness 
thrust upon them by their fussy parents. The race 
problem among children is the natural consequence of 
racial antagonism among parents. Let the children 
alone and matters of color and race are not within the 
field of attention. In the fraternity of childhood, all 
are welcome who will play the game. 

Socialization Through Loyalty to Family. Loyalty 
to the family and its attitudes is at once a hope and a 
stumbling-block for the teacher of reHgion. The child 
resents any reflection on his parents^ superiority. He 
has a real family pride even at the tender age of six. 
This is a worthy feeling. We desire not less of such 
loyalty, but more. The child not only is a part of the 
little group; he is now becoming conscious of the fact 



66 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

that there are other similar groups. At the same time 
that he is emerging as a self-conscious member of a 
Uttle circle of family and playmates, his family itself is 
emerging in his consciousness as a social unit, which he 
identifies now with himseK. By and by he will identify 
himself with other and larger units until finally this 
sociahzing process completes itself in identification with 
the universal society, the achievement of a completely 
socialized will. 

Elementary Cooperation in the Christian Pro- 
gram. The church-school class can make a vital con- 
tribution to this process. It can make cooperation in 
some Christian endeavor the most interesting thing 
in the world. The particular forms of Christian activity 
that are appropriate to the early years of childhood are 
largely the forms of simple neighborliness. Problems of 
social reconstruction to which the children can make no 
present contribution should not be forced upon their 
attention. If these are problems which they face, how- 
ever, in their daily fives, they cannot be ignored, and 
the children will have to be convinced that some one is 
trying to help matters. The son of a wage-earner who 
can find no employment is directly confronted with a 
great social problem about which Christianity has some- 
thing to say. Although the seven-year-old son can 
himself as yet do nothing about the removal of the con- 
dition of unemployment, he can be led to have the 
Christianas resentment at the condition, and to believe 
(if true) that Christians are trying, not only to help his 
father get work now, but to help all fathers always. If 
the strain arises between loyalty to family and loyalty 
to the church as represented in the church-school class, 
it will be because the church is failing in its Christian 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 67 

duty toward the family, and church and child aUke will 
be the victims of this tragic neglect. 

" Cooperation " versus '' Charity." The question 
is always raised: What can children of these tender years 
actually do in the way of real social cooperation? 

Let us first get rid of certain notions of service which 
are vicious in their effect upon the child^s reHgious de- 
velopment. By simple neighborliness we do not mean 
condescending hand-outs to ^^ the poor/^ nor are we 
Umited in our social horizon to a series of geographic 
circles ever widening in their area. 

The Achievement of Friendship and Justice. 
Anything which creates class consciousness is to be 
avoided as the invention of the devil. But how? It is 
clear that here, as in so many other cases, no man can 
be saved alone. As long as some are outside and some 
inside, the children of the insiders will look down on the 
outsiders and vice versa. And to be inside instead of 
outside means, psychologically, to be working together 
for a common purpose. It means being friends, not 
dolers and recipients of charity. It means giving the 
child ^s instinctive love the controlling vision of justice. 
Not that love should first seek justice for itself and tem- 
per its good-will with calculation of its own right, but 
that it should first seek justice for all, and infuse into its 
good-will a glowing enthusiasm for the rights of all, even 
the rights of enemies. 

The benevolences, therefore, are to be transformed into 
the costs of justice and the gifts of friendship. 

Cultivating the Attitude of Brotherhood. One 
of the ways by which a universal attitude of brotherhood 
can be cultivated, in contrast with the counterfeit 
called by this name, is this. Our attitudes are simply 



68 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

phases of our activity. They are a part of our general 
movement toward some biological or human end. It 
is helpful, however, to pick them out of the stream of 
life and center our attention on them. We can some- 
times best get our interpretation of action by studying 
the attitude that goes with it. 

We find that we can insert an influence into the stream 
of life's activity at the point where attitude is prominent 
in consciousness, and, by controlling the attitude, con- 
trol also the thought and act. Attitudes foretell our 
acts as well as our thoughts. But they also grow out of 
acts and thoughts. Each achievement reflects upon the 
general attitudes that precede future achievements, and 
each achievement influences each next achievement, not 
merely by the extra wear upon the ruts of our nervous 
mechanism, but by the effect upon our whole mental set. 
To establish relatively permanent mental sets that are 
characteristically Christian is one of our main objects. 
We must therefore plan for the kind of action which will 
have as part of its effect the forming of these social atti- 
tudes. 

To allow the child to find satisfaction in snobbish acts 
is to confirm him in snobbish attitudes and to assist him 
to organize his whole outlook on life in aristocratic forms. 
If he is to have the same friendly and humble attitude 
toward all, he must treat all aUke, and assume in all the 
same fundamental desire for the great end of life, which 
is social justice. Among his circle of friends, therefore, 
the child must count children of as many classes and 
races as possible, and with all he must assume a friendly 
cooperation for the good of all. This means, for the 
child, sharing good times, giving presents which add to 
another's happiness, exchanging postals with other chil- 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 69 

dren, or doing other things that will increase the feeling 
of friendship, and doing these things entirely without 
reference to the other child's geographical or social or 
economic or intellectual position. 

World Fellowship. This brings us to the second 
problem, that of the theory of concentric circles. The 
child of course begins his social contacts somewhere, and 
gradually increases them. But these increases are not 
by any means geographically determined. They might 
have been so determined when there were no means 
of transportation or communication with those outside 
one\s own hamlet. But today the world is one com- 
munity, and what goes on in China is known here before it 
is known by China's own four hundred milhons. It is 
as easy to send a postal to Beirut or Lahore as it is to send 
one to the next town. The problem is the estabHsh- 
ment of real social contacts. The enlargement of a 
child's horizon might and should be so planned as to 
embrace from the beginning the whole world community 
and to spread out not so much geographically as in the 
kind and complexity of social contacts and social prob- 
lems involved in human fellowship. The same kind of 
problems of adjustment should be faced by the six-year- 
old in his relationships with immigrants from southern 
Italy as are faced in his daily school Ufe. As he grows 
and encounters fresh problems, these enlargements of 
the sphere of active social Hving will include his relations 
with the children and grown-ups of other places, together 
with whom he is gradually entering into the fulness of 
the world's Ufe. 

One of the enterprises of a first-grade class was the 
preparation of a book containing pictures of American 
homes and public buildings, personal messages, and so 



70 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

on, which was to be sent to some children in China. 
These Chinese children were just school children Uke 
themselves, but they had not seen America and wanted 
to know how American children lived. And these 
American children were telling them in the language of 
pictures and by little friendly letters. Here was the 
reaUty of world brotherhood in the simplest and most 
effective form — the fellowship of children. 

Some Typical Childhood Interests. There are a 
few typical interests of these childhood days that we 
should keep in mind. The indefatigable investigating 
desire — the insistence upon experiencing and knowing 
— this, when it is not blunted by over-stimulation, is a 
constant source of satisfaction to the real teacher. This 
inquisitiveness includes as its objects, of course, the 
things of nature: flowers, and stones, and bugs. These 
occupy a large part of conscious attention if the child has 
access to them, and without access to them his life in- 
terests are necessarily impoverished. 

A seven-year-old boy offered the following exquisite 
prayer after a happy Thanksgiving : 

'^ Dear God, we thank thee for the creatures that swimmeth in 
the sea, for the wild beasts that prowleth in the forests, for the flowers 
that waveth in the breeze, for the bee that bringeth honey, even 
for the fly that buzzeth in the summertime; and in the end we thank 
thee for our lovely Thanksgiving dinner. Amen.'' 

Witness the miscellaneous assortment of specimens 
in a small boy's pocket and back yard. He loves to 
accumulate little odd things, precious objects of play 
or of exchange, and will bargain the less precious for 
the coveted possessions of his neighbors. This interest 
in barter is only beginning, however, and among city 
children has little opportunity for proper expression. 



\-- 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 71 

The puzzle interest is beginning, and can be made some 
use of, although the type of puzzle is of course very- 
simple. Children love to play with words, to make 
rhymes and simple puns. Their use of language is 
relatively self-conscious, and they seem to. take dehght 
in the mere sound of words, and to gather meanings from 
the tone and inflection with extraordinary facility. 
They are ready to see a story in almost anything, whether 
a picture or a piece of music, and love to act out the 
events, taking parts unconsciously so far as action is 
concerned, and vividly representing, with the help of 
literal symbolism, almost any sort of narrative. A 
second-grade class dramatized on the spur of the mo- 
ment an animal story which included the personifying 
of animals, trees, flowers and insects. The children had 
no hesitation in being a tree or a toadstool or a squirrel 
and behaved in the appropriate manner. There is 
considerable evidence that this dramatizing process 
goes on even though the children merely hsten to a story. 
They readily put themselves in the places of the char- 
acters and sympathetically experience what they experi- 
ence. An imaginary letter from an Armenian orphan 
was read in a service of worship telHng how the little girl 
lived without any home, hunting for food, and exposed 
to cold and danger. When asked afterward, ^^ How did 
you feel when you heard the letter? ^^ a little eight- 
year-old boy said, ^^ I felt just as though it all was hap- 
pening to me.^' 

They do not easily express themselves spontaneously 
in spoken words, however, and spontaneous representa- 
tion must, therefore, depend on action for its effect. 
But they take great pleasure in saying things they have 
learned, particularly if they are strongly rhythmical. 



72 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

I have seen a seven-year-old break right into the class 
work by the first line of ^^ It was the night before 
Christmas/' and immediately the whole class was 
stampeded into a choral chanting of the whole poem. 
Nothing could have stopped them but violence. 

Religious Behavior and Religious Needs. In 
what does the rehgious life of these Uttle fellows consist 
and how can normal growth in the religious life be 
promoted? 

We have to ask here, as at all stages of growth, What 
sort of purposes can they form and carry out? What 
habits and what insight into social action do they require 
to make the purposes they do form effective? What is 
the nature of a childish ideal and how can children be 
helped to put value upon ever higher and higher ideals? 

The children are moving in a realm of relatively simple 
human relationships as we saw above. Their rehgious 
life must concern these relationships. Their major 
interests include fun and helpfulness and curiosity. 
Rehgion must have something to say about good times 
and friendship and the pursuit of knowledge. The 
Christian standards of sportsmanship and brotherhood 
and truthfulness must become the children's standards, 
and these must be in a form sufficiently concrete for 
them to grasp and apply. They must discover their 
freedom and joy in cooperation, not in selfishness ; and 
in their cooperation, not in their isolation, they should 
find fellowship with God. The conditions of this 
fellowship are the same as for the Beginner, but God will 
mean more and more to the growing child as the child's 
experience grows and this insight into the meaning of 
a father's (or, it may be, a teacher's) love is given 
definiteness. 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 73 

Prayers of Childhood. A magnificent opportunity 
for securing religious organization is afforded in the bed- 
time prayers of childhood; but how often is this neg- 
lected! We saw in the last chapter one instance of 
effective prayer. Children are not learned in the wiles 
of the world. Most of them are not capable of maintain- 
ing permanently a calm exterior over a memory stored 
with explosive regrets. They desire moral fellowship, 
and this they know can be preserved only in an atmos- 
phere of frank sincerity. Many a child's soul is saved 
by a parent's thoughtful sympathy in encouraging the 
confession of misdeeds and in giving assurance of a re- 
stored fellowship with God. Little assurance need be 
given, for the child finds in his own peace of mind the 
secret of the answering of prayer.^ 

Securing the Control of Acts by Christian Ideals 
and Motives. What is then the form of the mental 
process called religious in early childhood? In general, 
as we have seen, the process is a movement within the 
impulses and desires of hfe by which these are criticized 
and revalued and constantly reorganized in terms of, or 
under the dominance of, some supreme motive. As the 
child grows, this criticism is made more and more 
independently, by the use of standards which are more 
and more abstract in their form. The dominant and 
organizing principle is gradually more perfectly defined 
in terms of a life purpose. In early childhood neither 
abstract standards nor an intelligent life purpose is 
possible. The standards by which conduct is judged 
are necessarily concrete examples of conduct or simple 
rules or propositions which define conduct in terms of 

lAn interesting instance of this desire for harmony of mind is seen in a story- 
quoted in Case 18, App. I, which see. 



74 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

deeds rather than in terms of quaUties or principles. 
The meaning of the term '^ justice '^ for example cannot 
be grasped by the average child of seven or eight except 
as another name for a particular kind of act, such as 
giving back a stolen knife. But these just deeds are of 
great interest to them, and simple rules which formu- 
late what they themselves have found to be the condi- 
tions of happy cooperation are exceedingly useful as 
means of self-control. 

The older children in a settlement had a council 
through which they participated in the conduct of the 
organization. The litter left in the hall-ways was ob- 
jectionable. So the council included among the house 
rules that halls must be kept clean. But the children 
under eleven or twelve did not respond to this ideal at 
all. So another rule was made saying that paper must 
not be left in the halls. This worked. It described 
the actual deed, rather than a general purpose. 

The organized purposes of children should therefore 
be in terms of deeds and their immediate consequences, 
rather than in the abstract terms of adult life. These are 
the first steps toward the control of acts by far-seeing 
and therefore relatively general and abstract purposes 
which require long experience and a more mature type 
of mental action to make them effective in present 
conduct. 

For the little fellows these practical rules are a vital 
factor in their self -organization. It is the teacher's 
task to see that the rules describe Christian types of 
action and are understood by the children in terms of 
actual experience. Little by little as the child's ability 
to grasp larger and larger relations grows, the rules 
grow more general until finally they are all included under 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 75 

the single great purpose and principle of the Christian 
life, which is love. 

It is of course essential that the little rules and prov- 
erbs which children use as means of self-control and as 
standards of action should be their own. If the teacher 
makes the rule or gets it out of a book and expects the 
children to obey it because of some superior authority 
which she or the book possesses, the rule will be a means 
of enslaving, rather than a means of liberating, the will. 
What we seek in rehgion is control from within. Con- 
trol from without is the antithesis of religion. The 
process of growth in religion is a process of liberation 
from external control and, at the same time, of increase 
in inner control. 

Of recent years, in our effort to gain freedom from the 
external control, we have sometimes placed too little 
emphasis on the necessity of corresponding self-control. 
The result has frequently been the subjection of the 
child to his own unorganized desires. Unless these 
happen by accident to be of a social rather than 
an anti-social color, the result is the criminal, the 
selfish, the cranky, the dehumanized man or woman. 
Better far than this is a continuation of external 
control which secures at least the appearance of 
goodness. 

This process of making a rule one's own is the same as 
for any kind of action involving the control of one's 
own acts. The fact that the problems we are interested 
in are problems of conduct in human relations does not 
relieve us of the necessity of studying these relations 
and our own acts. There is a widespread fear lest this 
direct approach to problems of behavior result in some 
kind of moral weakness or abnormality. Whether of 



76 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

not it does so depends upon the motives that are 
encouraged. 

As this problem is discussed more fully in the chapters 
on '' Motives '^ and '' Character/^ we can leave it at 
this point. Meanwhile, let us not forget that children 
want to do the right thing and welcome the slogan or 
rule or proverb that will help them at the right moment 
to keep their impulses under control. 

Children vary tremendously in their abihty to control 
their acts by ideas of their consequences, or by rules or 
principles. An impulsive child may be far better- 
natured than a thoughtful child, and yet the thoughtful 
child may overcome a selfish desire sooner than the 
better-natured child, because he is so constructed that 
he can stop and weigh the consequences before he acts. 
Some children can respond to abstract principles more 
easily than their elders, and others, of a lower level of 
intelligence, never reach the point where an ideal or 
principle is really understood or effective as an organizer 
of conduct. The wise teacher must study each child 
and help him to reach a constantly higher and higher 
level of self-control, as his ability to analyze and general- 
ize increases. 

The Christian life of these children will be, therefore, 
living childhood's own life on its highest level. The 
Christian child will first play fairly, for play is his 
chief occupation. He will participate with others in the 
family of God in the Christian enterprise, in its several 
aspects, including worship and friendship, relief, and 
social reconstruction, according to his ability. He will 
live his own life abundantly because he is achieving a 
measure of freedom from impulsive caprice, and a fund 
of purposes which direct his life into the channels of 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 77 

social cooperation where the permanent satisfactions of 
hfe are found. 

The Purpose of Christian Education for Early 
Childhood. Let us now formulate briefly the aims 
of rehgious education for children in the early years 
of childhood. 

1. To assist the children to adjust themselves to their new social 
relations — in the street, in school, etc. — in a Christian way — that 
is, in the consciousness that all these persons with whom they come 
in touch are children in God's family. The simple forms of Christian 
friendship are already familiar to them from their experience in the 
Beginners' class. But we cannot assume that the friendly deed at 
home will be duplicated at school. These new problems of adjust- 
ment must be consciously attacked, so that with the expanding 
social contacts there will be a like expansion of friendly deeds and 
attitudes. 

If the children's own natural relations are not expanding, then it 
is a part of our purpose also to assist them into larger social spheres, 
so as to secure in experience the basis of growth in Christian ways of 
life. As rapidly as possible the child's consciousness of his own 
humanity, of his brotherhood with all sorts and conditions of chil- 
dren and men and women, must be estabhshed. 

But we do not wish to limit the Christian principle of life to per- 
sonal friendships. It is important also that the children should 
participate in the larger phases of the Christian program, such as are 
represented in the rehef of distress wherever found, and in the en- 
deavor to make social machinery conform to the Christian ideal of 
love and justice. There is little of this that is within the reach of 
the little fellows, but the lack of food in India, or China, or Belgium 
is quite well understood by them, and the fact that some children 
have to go to work and have no time to play or to go to school is 
something they can readily appreciate. In the removal of these 
conditions they should therefore have a share. And to help buy 
milk for children whose mothers cannot afford it — this is a real bit 
of Christian service. And so our second purpose is: 

2. To secure cooperation in the Christian program for the world. 
But we do not want mere automatism. All these good deeds 

might be present and yet the spirit and purpose of the thing be 



78 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

lacking. Imitation may be the first introduction to kindness or 
helpfulness, but, as mere imitation, the deed lacks rehgious signifi- 
cance. In the third place therefore our purpose is: 

3. To assist the children to develop and organize ideals of conduct 
in terms of Christian etiquette and concrete examples of Christian 
conduct which are known as Christian. And finally, 

4. To assist the children to realize vividly the family of Godj and their 
own relation to it. 

Principles of Method. The particular methods and 
material for this work cannot be discussed here, but 
certain general principles underlie our work, and these 
can be profitably stated at this point. 

1. In the first place, any church-school class should be primarily 
a cooperating group. It should have some kind of common hfe. 
The children should be doing together the things which children lilve 
to do together. Sharing in a common pleasure, and sharing gener- 
ously and fairly — this, as far as it goes, is exactly what we desire for 
children. And in this group life there will be opportunity for the 
practise of Christian etiquette under conditions of control by the 
teacher. She will see to it that social situations arise in which 
the problems of adjustment, of courtesy, thought fulness, etc., can 
be squarely faced and be worked out deliberately. There will be 
the need of reflection here, and of stories which reveal the desirabil- 
ity of certain ways of behavior. 

2. The home life should ofTer a similar environment for the child. 
Here, too, the basis of the group life should be cooperation. With 
children of six, seven and eight this is difficult to manage, as the 
direction of their contribution to the family welfare frequently 
takes more time than the doing of the task would take. But when 
we come to the point where the family will be recognized as funda- 
mentally an educational institution^ these additional responsibilities 
on the part of the parents will not seem so unreasonable as they do 
now. 

One of the ways in which children can cooperate in the family life 
is by having specific duties to perform. The five-year-old can see 
that waste baskets are emptied daily. The six-year-old can keep 
the floor of the hall closet in order. The seven-year-old can help 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 79 

with dishes and dusting. The eight-year-old can make his or her 
bed, keep the rest of the hall closet in order, etc. All can take care 
of their own toys and help keep the rooms neat. All should have a 
share in the great family decisions. One family I know would not 
think of buying a piece of furniture without holding a family council 
in which every child takes part. The chair or table that is pur- 
chased becomes our chair or table in a new sense. More and more, 
wise parents are making definite budgets, providing definite al- 
low^ances for the children and for themselves. The children keep 
accounts, purchase what they can pass judgment upon, save for 
desired gifts or toys or tools, contribute through the family purse 
or through the school or church treasury to social betterment as far 
as they can understand the nature or at least the purpose of the 
causes. 

3. They should thus be led to participate together in activities 
that take them outside of their own group. Things are going on 
in the school and in the world in which they should have a part. 
Making picture cards for sick children, sending pictures and toys 
to natives of other lands, contributing to causes in which the school 
is interested, taking part with other Christians in supporting relief 
work — these are illustrations of forms of organized service in which 
the children should be engaged. Here again, the teacher will have 
to help by providing much of the material for this cooperation in 
the way of stories of work done by other children, stories of children 
of other lands, stories which stir the desire to help, or which increase 
admiration for others, or which portray in concrete form the way 
Christians do things in the world. 

These stories will probably be organized in some way, and so we 
provide 

4. A course of study, or a selection of human experiences that 
are needed by these children to help them organize their deeds and 
their ideas and their attitudes. These stories will provide op- 
portunities for the exercise of moral judgment, distinguishing be- 
tween different kinds of deeds and their various consequences. 
They will help the children to see their own experience in the deeds 
of others and will make attractive to them certain ways of behavior 
which otherwise w^ould not be emphasized or promoted. And this 
aspect of the work naturally includes the formulation and the learn- 
ing of practical slogans for the guidance of conduct and of practical' 



80 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

standards for the judgment of acts. The Bible affords many 
examples of excellent slogans, such as ^' He that ruleth his spirit is 
greater than he that taketh a city/' or the '^ Golden Rule." 

5. In connection with the mastery of this subject matter, there 
will be appropriate instructional activities to assist the memorizing 
of verses, or the clarifying of ideas, or the practise of the particular 
form of cooperation described. Picture pasting if properly done 
has a place in the program. Drawing, dramatizing the story, singing, 
reciting, visiting other classes to tell about the class work, discussion, 
and so on, are themselves a basis for group cooperation, ahd also 
effective means for increasing the intellectual grip upon the problem 
at hand. 

6. Finally, there is cooperation in worship. This necessitates 
training in the use and understanding of the forms and materials of 
worship which are used. It is exceedingly important that in this 
significant Christian enterprise the children feel that they are doing 
something that all Christians do. If the only worship they share is 
their own, their notion of worship will be provincial and defective. 
Indeed they cannot worship as members of God's family apart from 
other members of his family. They learn by taking part with those 
who know how, just as they learn how to use tools. It is part of 
our work therefore to have available for these children services 
of worship with older children and with adults so that they can 
regularly participate. 

But they need also the more intimate and free fellowship that is 
possible in class worship, and in family worship and the bedside 
prayer. Naturalness in our conversation with God is important 
if God is to be a factor in the control of conduct. Reverence for 
him, which so many fear we shall lose by our emphasis upon his 
approachableness, is gained properly by attention to his character 
and purpose, rather than by attention to his physical power or his 
enthronement among the stars. 

Each class session should include its own worship, its own recogni- 
tion of the presence of God and its own constant emphasis on God's 
goodness and nearness, and on the reality of a sonship which makes 
God depend upon his children for the carrying out of his desire. 



LITTLE FELLOWS SIX TO EIGHT 81 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Examine the hymns used by the children in your Primary 
Department. Are the words of a character to promote Christian 
growth? In what particulars? 

2. In what cooperative activities do the children in your (or 
some other) school engage, and with whom are they associated in 
these common enterprises? Are these enterprises Christian in 
character, that is, are they efforts at the increase of love and justice 
in any particular sphere or relation? 

3. What instinctive tendency is common to Cases 20-22 in 
Appendix I? In what respects are Cases 23 and 24 alike? 

4. What sorts of conduct characteristic of children between six 
and nine do 3^ou think should be changed? What sort of conduct 
have you observed that is on the Christian level? 



CHAPTER VI 

LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 
Some Facts and Laws 

In our study and observation we have all noticed that 
no two children, even twins, are alike. Are there any 
laws in accordance with which hkenesses and differences 
occur? Before proceeding further with our analysis of 
children, let us note some facts and formulate some laws 
that will be of service in our further observation. 

Twins resemble one another more completely and in 
more particulars than siblings, or children of the same 
parents who are not twins. And siblings are apt to be 
more aUke in more ways than children of different fami- 
lies. If children were all ahke, our work as teachers and 
parents would be relatively easy and uninteresting. The 
extraordinary surprises, the endless variety, the obstinate 
refusal of any child to come within the text-book defini- 
tion, or indeed within the scope of our own experience, 
these are what challenge our interest and urge us on to 
the discovery of the new law which will include this new 
species of conduct, only to find that the very next young- 
ster we see thoughtlessly contradicts our rule. And the 
differences we find in the same child from day to day, 
indeed from moment to moment, are almost as per- 
plexing as those we find among different children. ^^ What 
is that boy going to do next? '' is a question that is never 
completely answered until he does it. Then we know 
what he was going to do next, and so does he. 

82 



II 



il 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 83 

The Laws of Behavior. One of our troubles is that 
we are looking for the wrong kind of a law. We are 
looking for some kind of statement which will apply 
equally well to every single case. We want too much. 
We are contented enough with the statement, '' wood 
burns ^' ; and yet we know that under some conditions 
wood does not burn, for example, when we want to make 
a fire in the open on a wet day. The complete state- 
ment would include a quaUfication of the proposition, 
such as, ^^ dry wood burns,'' or, ^' wood burns when the 
temperature rises to a certain degree, the combustion 
degree varying with kinds of wood, stages of greenness, 
etc.'' Iron burns, too, if it is hot enough, but we don't 
bother our heads much about that fact. We use it as 
though it did not burn, because we know that for our 
practical purposes, under the conditions we are Kkely 
to meet, iron won't be so obstreperous. 

A law^ is useful to the extent that it enables us to predict 
what is hkely to happen under ordinary conditions, even 
if it does not enable us to predict what will happen under 
every possible condition. If we can go further, and say 
that something is or is not hkely to happen in so many 
cases out of every hundred, our law wall be still more 
useful. If we could know, for example, that seven four- 
year-olds in ten are afraid when left alone in the dark, 
our prediction would be more reliable for any new case 
than if we knew simply that some children are afraid 
in the dark. Unfortunately, there are very few traits 
of childhood that have been sufficiently studied to war- 
rant any such accurate statement of probability, and 
our generalizations will have to take the usual form. 

What do we know, then, about children in general that 
will help us to understand particular children? Are 



84 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

there any useful classifications of children or of childish 

traits that will enable us to place a child and so to find 

out more readily how to treat him? Is there any 

^^ genius ^' of childhood, any key to its mysteries, any 

wand or symbol that can disperse the mists of age that 

hide from our view 

** . . . boyhood's time of June, 
Crowding years in one brief moon " ? 

The Marks of Childhood 

The two aspects of childhood which we are most prone 
to forget and yet which it is most necessary for us as 
teachers to keep constantly in mind are these — obvious 
enough when we stop to think about it : inexperience and 
potentiality. 

Children Diflfer from One Another in Experience 
partly, of course, because children are not all of the same 
age, partly because they live under different conditions, 
and partly because they are by nature equipped to be- 
have differently and so to gain various experiences. But 
the fact remains that experience must grow. It cannot 
be gained at one stroke in toto. All children are moving 
from a stage of relatively simple experience to a stage of 
relatively complex experience. The meanings of things 
that depend on having had certain experiences are non- 
existent for the child who has not had those experiences. 
If a child who had never come into contact with the heat 
of a flame were told that the flame would burn him if he 
should touch it, he could have no idea what '' burned '' 
means. If he decUned to touch it, it would be out of 
regard for the person who told him not to, or because he 
feared punishment. It would not be because of any- 
thing the fire might do to him, for of that he knows noth- 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 85 

ing. Listen for a few minutes to the questions of a nine- 
year-old boy — these are not such puzzlers as those of a 
four-year-old, but they are hard enough to answer. We 
assume the presence of knowledge in children because we 
ourselves have forgotten that we ever lacked it. Only 
recently I heard a small boy of nine ask, as he looked at a 
stretch of water, ^' What makes the waves come in, the 
wind? '' And he was brought up where waves were a 
common sight. What would a poor fellow know about 
waves who had never seen or felt any? Few city chil- 
dren have ever seen a flock of sheep or even one of the 
species. Practically none have ever seen a shepherd of 
the East care for his sheep, and none but the natives of 
Syria have actually experienced the search for pasturage, 
the dangers of the lonely mountains, the evening cor- 
raling of the flock. By what magic is the city child, 
then, to understand the twenty-third Psalm? This, for 
its literahsm — and as for its symbolism of the deeper 
experiences that come with maturity, of this the child is 
fortunately unaware. 

Wise indeed is the teacher or parent who can walk 
surefooted in the paths of childhood. It is easier far 
to gain experience than it is to lose it or to cast it off, 
once gained. Indeed, that cannot be done. We can 
recall dimly what it was to be a child, but no one really 
remembers himself, his original and virgin experiences 
with the world of things and people. What he re- 
members is his previous memory of these originals, and 
with each recollection there are inevitable alterations in 
the pictures that creep in because of later experiences. 
Vividness of recollection does not guarantee accuracy. 
How vividly we recall things which never happened! 

Gifted with sympathetic insight, we can imagine the 



86 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

child's world, however. But if this imaginary world is 
to resemble the reality and not be constructed simply of 
beautiful symbolic pictures of sweet innocence, it must 
be based on our experience of children. We must 
observe, observe, observe! and mull over our observa- 
tion, until it is as natural for us to think in terms of 
childhood experience as it is for a veteran motorist to 
follow the freaks and fancies of a gasoline engine. 

The Second Mark of Childhood is Its Potenti- 
ality. This in two senses. On the one hand the child 
is not a small specimen of a man or woman. The de- 
sires and passions, the ideals and temptations of maturity 
are not there. The child is a different sort of person 
altogether. But his difference has a pecuhar quahty 
that distinguishes it from the dog's difference from the 
mature human being. The child will become the man, 
the dog will not. As Professor Coe has so aptly said, 
the child is a '^ candidate for personaUty.'' 

Of the way in which the new capacities characteristic 
of maturity appear, one by one, as the child grows, more 
will be seen later. What we need to remember now is 
that the child does not grow up all at once, and that he 
does really grow. Time is a wonderful physician for 
many ills of body and soul, since, if given time, the 
physical and spiritual resources of the individual will 
have opportunity to develop, 

A youngster of four is rebellious and '^ naughty,'' 
braving parental wrath in the delight of disobedience or 
of " wilfulness." One such sat all morning in his chair 
rather than eat his oatmeal as his mother requested him 
to do. He was experimenting with his environment, 
trying to bend it to his own fancy. Appetite, more in- 
sistent than fancy, finally demanded its right, and the 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 87 

conflict was at an end. The child ate the oatmeal and 
was ^' himself ^' once more. A punishment so natural 
as to be no longer punishment but simply the normal 
working of the mechanism of life — eat or starve — 
furnished valuable data for the child's growing con- 
sciousness of self to work upon. A few more such ex- 
periments and a few more weeks or months will find 
him as cooperative a member of the family group as 
could be desired. But time is needed for the transition, 
time for the growth from within as well as for the changes 
wrought by experiences with the outer world. 

The changes in mood and behavior that accompany 
adolescence are too obvious to dwell upon. The power 
of emotion, the social consciousness, the feelings toward 
the opposite sex, these are not due simply to more ex- 
perience; they are largely due to growth, inner changes, 
provided for in the cell structure of the individual, just 
as the tree is provided for in the seed. 

We must be content to wait for much that we desire 
in the way of character until body and mind are ripened 
by experience and growth. 

Individual Differences 

So much for the distinguishing characteristics of child- 
hood, inexperience and potentiality. The other quah- 
ties that we hke to associate with the youth of the race — 
humility, wonder, faith, loyalty — what are these but 
the operation of the child's hmited powers in a world of 
which he has had httle experience? Fortunate indeed 
it is that the baby is born unequipped and also inex- 
perienced. If he came to us with the power of an adult, 
but with no experience of the world, or with the capaci- 
ties of a baby, yet wise in the ways of the world, what a 



88 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

monstrosity he would be! Since he lacks both power and 
experience, there is the possibility of an infinite diversity 
of combinations of these two variables, with the resulting 
infinite diversities of human nature. 

The Causes of Variations. There are many causes 
at work tending to make a child different from some 
children and hke others. Besides the effects of age or 
growth, there are the effects of experience, already 
mentioned, including all the environmental forces that 
play constantly upon the child — education, accidents, 
health, the effect of ancestry, near and remote, and sex. 
The fact that all these causes are at work at any one time 
in producing and modifying any given trait makes it 
exceedingly difficult to assign to any one cause its due 
proportion of effectiveness. Many attempts have been 
made, however, to do this, and some conclusions are 
being reached. Certain of these are of interest to us as 
teachers of reHgion. 

Differences between Boys and Girls. Certain of 
these are obvious. We know, for example, that girls 
are more interested in dolls than boys are, whereas 
boys hke rough-and-tumble fights more than girls do. 
Girls are more sensitive, as a rule, and at the same time 
more amenable to control. Boys are stronger at certain 
ages, and are outstripped by the girls in size and some- 
times in strength also, at other ages. The ^^ tomboy '' 
is an exception just as the '^ sissy ''is. It is hard to 
discover just what differences between boys and girls 
are due to the fact that they are boys and girls, and what 
differences are due to differences in training and in the 
conventions of modern life. Extensive studies, into 
the details of which we need not go, seem to justify 
these conclusions: 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 89 

'^ A child is, for example, by being a girl rather than a 
boy, likely to be more observant of small visual details, 
less often color-blind, less interested in things and their 
mechanisms, more interested in people and their feel- 
ings, less given to pursuing, capturing and maltreating 
living things, and more given to nursing, comforting 
and relieving them. It is no accident that girls learn 
to spell more easily, do better relatively in Uterature 
than in physics, and have driven men from the profes- 
sion of nursing.''^ 

In any group of girls and boys, or in a class of girls as 
compared with a class of boys, the girls will tend to be 
more aUke than the boys. One is not apt to find either 
such dulness or such brightness among them, and in 
almost every other particular the differences among 
the boys will be greater than the differences among the 
girls. This is of minor importance educationally and 
does not particularly affect one's methods of teaching. 
It helps to explam some of the puzzling facts of hfe, 
however, as, for example, the greater frequency of 
genius and of imbeciUty among men than among 
women. There are relatively more men leaders, both 
in science and reHgion, than there are women leaders. 

But this need not discourage the women, for it does 
not follow that girls are therefore as a class inferior to 
boys. On the contrary, there are as many traits in 
which the general average is higher for girls than for 
boys as the reverse. According to a study made by 
Karl Pearson,^ boys tend to be more athletic and noisy, 
less shy, yet more self-conscious, less conscientious and 
more quick tempered. These differences are slight, 

1 Thorndike, E. L., Education, p. 68. 

' Quoted by Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Vol. Ill, pp. 197-8. Cf . also 
pp. 262-3. 



90 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

however, and are not so important and far-reaching as 
differences in certain elemental instincts, the operation 
of which leads to the differences mentioned and to many 
others as well. These are the fighting instinct and the 
parental instinct. Both sexes have both, but boys are 
better fighters and the girls are better mothers. 

Other differences, such as those mentioned in the 
following quotation,^ are perhaps chiefly due to, the 
more fundamental biological differences just named: 

*' In detail the exact measurements of intellectual 
abiUties show a sUght superiority of the women in recep- 
tivity and memory, and a sUght superiority of the men 
in control of movement and in thought about mechanical 
situations. . . . They (men) excel in muscular tests, 
in abiUty to ' spurt,' whereas women do better in en- 
durance tests.'' 

Differences Due to Race. Of more interest are 
differences among individuals which are due to other 
causes than sex. There is a wide divergence of opinion 
as to the effect of race on a person's mental make-up 
and capacity. Between the lowest and highest races 
the gap is clear, but among men of highly developed 
races, the differences are not so obvious. '^ My own 
estimate," says Thorndike,^ ^' is that greater differences 
will be found in the case of the so-called ' higher ' 
traits, such as the capacity to associate and to analyze, 
thinking with parts or elements and originality, than in 
the case of the sensory and sensori-motor traits, but 
that there will still be very great overlapping — the 
differences in original nature within the same race are, 
except in extreme cases, many times as great as the 

1 Strayer and Nors worthy, How to Teach, p. 153. 

2 0p.ci7., p. 224. 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 91 

differences between races as wholes/' The history of 
achievement by foreign students in our own colleges 
and universities should give pause to any tendency to 
regard all who Uve outside of our own land as inferior. 
There are more relatively dull persons and fewer rela- 
tively brilliant among some races than among others, 
but there are plenty of ordinary folks among them all 
who are of similar intelHgence and who constitute the 
basic material of the world fellowship, which shall be 
willing to make use of intellectual leadership wherever 
found, and which shall devote itself to the elimination of 
the inferior as rapidly as is consistent with common 
humanity. 

Differences Due to Family. One's own immediate 
family stock is of more significance than his racial stock 
in determining his place among his fellows. But his 
family stock is complex, and, apart from occasional 
reversions to an old type, the observable influences seem 
to be exerted mostly by parents. The effect of this 
influence is not to make children duplicates of their 
parents, but to make them vary from the general human 
average in the same direction as their parents do. 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to eUminate entirely 
other influences than those of family, such as training, 
when measuring resemblances and differences, except 
in the case of physical characteristics not affected by 
training. The composition — the quaUty — of the brain 
is one of these inborn physical characteristics not affected 
by training. A child's destiny, so far as his upper and 
lower limits of development are concerned, is fixed by 
nature. The point in between this lowest and highest 
possibility which the individual reaches is determined 
chiefly by training. 



92 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

How specific the resemblances to parents are in emo- 
tional types, morality, and so on, is not clearly known. 
Children of the same parents and the same upbringing 
certainly vary tremendously in mental characteristics; 
but in any specific trait, it is fair to say that a child is 
more likely to resemble his own parents and his own 
brothers and sisters than some one else's parents or chil- 
dren of these other parents. These resembling tendencies, 
however, are subject to changes, and, save as limits, do 
not determine the individuaFs growth. 

Differences Due to Experience. Training is more 
significant in settling a child's future than is his ancestry. 
It cannot raise him above his inherited limitations, 
however. The dull boy will never overtake the bright 
boy, for the bright boy goes faster. As each generation 
grows up, those naturally well equipped forge ahead, 
and those ill equipped get further and further behind. 
The ill equipped make progress, but their progress is 
absolute, not relative; and their general status in society, 
so far as intellectual attainments are concerned, remains 
the same. 

To pit one child against another may spur both to 
action, but if one is much superior in native ability to 
the other, it is cruel to subject the latter to the certain 
humiliation of defeat. Better far would it be to pit 
him against his own record, and to encourage satisfac- 
tion in absolute progress. The feeling of superiority 
that results from surpassing the inferior gives the bright 
boy a false sense of progress and an insufferable pride 
that is exceedingly difficult to overcome. 

But any trait can be improved with training. How 
much of this improvement is due to sheer growth and 
how much to educational influences is not known. 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 93 

Some children of nine are intellectually superior to some 
of eighteen. Yet growth is certainly a factor in mental 
development. Changes in brain structure take place 
which make possible more and more complex associa- 
tions. New desires arise which affect the direction of 
interest and attention, and, in turn, these new interests 
affect achievement. Without the stimulus of the en- 
vironment, however, these new interests might never 
be called into effect, and certainly the nature of the en- 
vironment determines largely the specific forms which 
instinctive interests will take, and the specific materials 
on which the mind will work. 

The particular conventions, the habits and ideas of 
social life, which constitute the machinery of morality — 
all these are learned. No child is born with habits or 
ideas of any sort. All these he gets from his environ- 
ment, and these constitute at once his freedom and his 
bondage. How far he will transcend these environ- 
mental limitations or how completely he will be subject 
to them depends largely on his native capacity, and this 
in turn is the gift of race and family, plus the unac- 
counted-for variation upward or downward that he him- 
self exhibits as an altogether new specimen of human 
life. 

The Necessity of Recognizing Differences. It 
is important for us as teachers of reHgion to recognize 
both the possibilities and the limitations of our pupils. 
We know that all except some of the defectives can be- 
come conventionally moral by training — but not with- 
out training.. We know that most can become, not 
only conventionally moral, but independently moral, 
acquiring standards and principles of conduct through 
their own critical study of human life. This, too, re- 



94 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

quires training. And we know that a few will not only 
be independent but prophetic, born leaders of men and 
architects of the new social order. 

Who knows whether such a potential prophet may not 
be in his own class? The leaders of tomorrow are now 
in training somewhere, and whether or not they will be 
leaders in crime or leaders in progress depends upon 
what is happening to them now. And the world is 
waiting for the issue. It is as teachers of the future 
leaders of the church that we have our greatest re- 
sponsibility and our greatest opportunity. 

Miscellaneous Differences. A word should be 
said finally about other sorts of differences than those 
mentioned above, differences which do not materially 
affect one's leadership or one's morality, but which do 
affect our method of teaching. These differences con- 
cern the form of one's mental life. They are primarily 
differences in types of interest. The causes of these 
varieties in interest lie back in ancestry, sex and experi- 
ence. There is, for example, the practical, common- 
sense child, as contrasted with the fanciful dreamer. 
These find it hard to understand one another. One is 
interested mostly in his own thought process ; the other, 
in what is going on around him. Some children enjoy 
getting away from concrete things and working with 
intellectual symbols. Others prefer to work directly 
with objects. Some children are constantly reflecting, 
valuing, '' sizing up." Others rarely '^ stop to think," 
but just plunge ahead, reckless of consequences. Some 
enjoy the sense of power that comes from managing 
people. Others confine their attention to the control of 
things. Some are delicate and discriminating in their 
appreciation and sympathies. Others are coarse and 



LIKENESSES AND DIFFERENCES 95 

blunt and hard to move. Some are easily led, amenable 
to suggestion. Others are independent. 

Frequently these differences and their numerous 
combinations are characteristic of the same child at 
different times. He has his fancy-free moods and his 
common-sense moods; his thoughtful moods and his 
reckless moods; his moments of interest in things and 
his moments of interest in abstractions; sometimes he 
is the philosopher, sometimes the poet, sometimes the 
scientist, or the morahst. 

It is helpful to recognize these varying moods or types 
of behavior, for they represent in any case a fairly con- 
stant set of phenomena. We soon learn what to expect 
from the fanciful child or the fanciful mood, and can 
anticipate the actions of the practical child or the practi- 
cal mood. To name a thing is in part to control it, for 
the name affords a basis for the organization of ideas. 
As we gather our data, therefore, it might be wise to 
record not only the situation and the child's response, 
but also the child's dominant type of interest, if known, 
or what seems to be his immediate mood, if that is 
known, giving the evidence for the judgment expressed. 
We shall soon find that as teachers we shall have to 
counterbalance these dominant tendencies with the 
encouragement of their opposites, if we are to develop 
well rounded personalities, sensitive, yet not weak; 
aggressive, but not overbearing; leaders, but not bulHes; 
thoughtful, but not cowardly; courageous, but not reck- 
less; rich in fancy, but not unbalanced. 



96 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. The stories quoted in Appendix I were written by a girl eight 
years old. Read them, and make a note of the dominant interests 
that appear in them. 

2. Ordinarily children are placed in the same class in the church 
school because they are of the same age or in the same grade in day 
school. Is this practise wise? Give detailed reasons, and suggest 
other possible ways of selecting children who are to be in the same 
class. 

3. What provision do you make, or have you seen made, in 
church-school assignments, for differences among the pupils in 
ability or interest? 

4. Those who are interested in further study of individual differ- 
ences will find any of the following books by E. L. Thorndike of 
great help : 

Individttality. 

Education J Chapter IV. 

Educational Psychology , Briefer Course^ Part III. 

Educational Psychology ^ Volume III. 



CHAPTER VII 

BOYS AND GIRLS 

The Religious Life of Later Childhood 

Social Relations. The years from nine to eleven or 
twelve are conspicuous for two changes in the Uves of the 
boys and girls. First, they are physically far more 
vigorous and tough than in early childhood. Second, 
they are living in a vastly bigger world. Home is less 
significant than it was, partly because it absorbs less of 
the children's time, and partly because other interests 
are growing which lead away from home and compete 
with the home influences. Boys go off together, either 
playing games or exploring and foraging. Girls, less 
adventurous, stay nearer the hearthstone, but never- 
theless are much more in the company of other girls and 
less under the oversight of adults. 

The teachers of children are now largely of their own 
age: the children look more to their own group for ap- 
proval and disapproval. The codes of cooperation are 
becoming fairly well estabhshed, and standards of con- 
duct are being fixed. Every man is still for himself most 
of the time, but spontaneous groups are forming which 
make demands upon the individuaFs loyalty. The gangs 
are rather flexible in membership, but they are sufficiently 
distinct in the minds of the boys to form the basis of a 
large part of their activity. Street gangs fight one 
another as groups, not as individuals. Girls belong to 
different sets, each scorning the social standards of other 

97 



98 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

sets. Team-play is attempted, but the teams find it 
difficult to play without fighting over individual pref- 
erences, and as Hke as not the team evaporates in the 
course of a game or a day or a week. When representing 
a larger institution, Kke a school, however, or under 
competent leadership, the team, even of ten-year-olds, 
tends to last longer, which indicates that the years of 
later childhood are exhibiting larger and larger capacity 
for group action and group loyalty on an ever widening 
scale. 

Growth and Instinctive Tendencies. Height and 
weight increase gradually. The girls begin to grow 
more rapidly before the boys do, so that at the 
end of childhood and the beginning of adolescence 
the boys seem much younger than girls of the same 
age. This no doubt accounts in part for the tendency 
of boys and girls to hold one another in apparent 
contempt. 

Significant instincts Hke fighting and the parental in- 
stinct are increasing in the strength of their impulsion. . 
The conditions of civiUzed life put restraints on pug- 
nacious behavior which sometimes are irritating to the 
small boy. It is not surprising that he breaks out oc- 
casionally, either in street fights, or in some form of 
bullying or teasing. Rivalry is keen among both boys 
and girls. They deHght in competition of any kind and 
take great pride in their achievements. 

Fortunately, however, we have a strong tendency 
still present to care for and fondle. Pets are universally 
desired — anything aUve — snakes, cats, turtles, dogs, 
rabbits, canaries. How tender a boy is with his own dog, 
and how proud of its abihty to eat up all the dogs in the 
neighborhood! 



BOYS AND GIRLS 99 

Here is a real incident which brings out certain of these 
boyish traits. 

'' An eleven-year-old boy tested us to the limit by his stubborn 
resistance to all control. He was either bad or indifferent most of 
the time. Sometimes the teacher held him by main force, while 
teaching the lesson, or sent him to the church-school superintendent. 
Once she sent him home. 

It became unbearable, and in my round of calls I came to this 
home. As luck would have it the boy came to the door. His 
face beamed as he saw it was a visitor for him, as well as for mother. 
He called his mother, grandmother and sister, then sat on the edge 
of the chair and listened for four or five minutes, while we talked. 
He finally ventured — '^ 1 have some rabbits." 

^^ How many? " I asked. 

*' I had the father and mother, then seven little ones came, but 
the Ginnies stole four, one died, and I have two left." 

^' Oh, may I see them? " 

" Do you really want to? " 

" Why, yes." 

^' Well, come on." 

So I followed through the kitchen, down the rickety back-stairs 
into the yard. There we found the rabbits. I took up the prettiest 
baby to fondle it. Henry took up the homehest one and said, " I 
like this one best, it's so homely and cuddles up close to you." 

He told me what they ate, how they slept, showed me the dog 
and cat, told of two Httle white mice he had had and lost, of his 
newspaper route and customers, also how easy it was for him to get 
up in the morning. 

By this time we were back up-stairs, and the mother began to 
tell me how she was not well and that Henry helped her clean the 
floor, wash the dishes and even hang up clothes. 

He got red, and uncomfortable, as she talked, so got up and said, 
'' Guess I'll go now! " 

That was the last of Henry as a bad boy in the church school, 
for his teacher and I talked it all over and learned to understand. 
Every Sunday, however, he came early so as to come up and talk 
for a few minutes about the rabbits, etc., especially the new baby, 
which became his chief treasure."^ 

1 Quoted from a student's observation. 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

/ Some one has suggested how to get an idea of the ex- 
uberant abundance of life and energy of the years of 
later childhood. Think of how you feel some fine crisp 
morning after a good night's rest, awake and ready for 
the day's work. Then multiply your feehng of strength 
and energy ten times. You are ten times as hungry, 
ten times as desirous of shouting and singing, ten times 
as good natured, ten times as full of mischief, ten times 
as eager for the next act. That is the way a boy feels. 

Here is a letter written by a boy of eleven years who 
had been sick in bed and still had a cold. It is addressed 
to his father. Note his overflowing good spirits. 

^'Professor, Doctor, Reverand Esq. 

Hello ! there — alright . 

Mother probably told you that I was sick in bed about two weeks 
ago — well I'm alright now except a little cold that will soon be 
gone. 

E. H., R. D., R. L., A. W., B. Q., K. L., D. McL., G. W. (each 
name was written in fuU) and myself make up a BASEBALL TEAM 
of which I am captain, Spud H. is manager and Gordon assistant 
manager. We play the Cypress Street Team tomorrow at 2.30 
o'clock. H. M. isUMP, 

MR. G . has sent those stories about the slaves he told us 

about and mother wants to read to us now. 

So solong old sport. 

Your left hand man." 

This letter reveals another tendency that it is import- 
ant for us to remember. Notice the interest in the indi- 
viduals with whom he plays. He mentioned them all 
by name. Beginning now at ten or eleven, this interest 
in individuals increases through the early years of 
adolescence till it reaches its height in the chums of 
middle and later adolescence. These chums, many at 
first, and becoming fewer, are generally of the same sex. 



BOYS AND GIRLS 101 

But the plays and games of boys and girls do not ex- 
clude those of the opposite sex by any means. It is not 
until the latter part of this period that the problem of 
cooperation between the sexes becomes acute. 

Technical Skill. Physical and mental activity is 
becoming more sldlful, and the children take more and 
more deUght in proficiency for its own sake. Boys and 
girls can make things extraordinarily well. The finer 
skills we call technique are possible now and appeal to 
them. Except for the feeUng that comes with maturity, 
the boy or girl of eleven can play the piano with con- 
siderable abihty, and produce paintings or drawings that 
continually astonish us for their sense of form. Artistic 
and mechanical abilities that had begun to show them- 
selves earher are now rapidly developing. A group of 
boys at a summer camp built an observation tower 
twenty feet high in fifty minutes, having nothing but 
growing trees and tools to work with. A few directions 
were given them at the beginning, and then they set to 
and produced a mechanically perfect structure from raw 
material. 

Writing is becoming easy and so can be used as a 
ready means of expression. Reading is so easy as to be 
a temptation. Stories of an exciting and adventurous 
kind are consumed at an alarming rate although, in this 
as in all other characteristics, children differ from one 
another greatly. But they Hke books and hke to own 
them. 

Dramatic Interests. In spite of this increasing 
interest in and grip upon language, however, they do not 
yet find discussion easy, nor is conversation fluent except 
in the form of chatter. Yet the dramatic sense is keen 
and the representation of stories is a never-ending source 



102 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

of pleasure. With a native genius for dramatic effects 
they get up plays, make scenery and costumes, prepare 
speeches — and charge admission! 

The following outline describes in a boy's own words a 
play that he and three other children, one of them a girl, 
prepared and produced at a camp in the woods. The 
author was eleven. 

THE LAST STAND 
By Lynd Ward 

Cast of Characters 
Little Beaver Buffalo Bill 

Showandassee Jim 

Scene I 
Time: Smiset. Place: Indian Camp. 

Showandassee preparing evening meal when Little Beaver comes 
home from hunt with deer. 

Showandassee (without looking up) — Did you get anything this 
time? 

Little Beaver — Yes, I got a deer, but it was very hard to get him. 

S. — My, he is a big one! 

L. B. — Yes, he was the biggest one I could find. 

S. — Well, supper is ready; let us eat. 

They have supper and then go to bed. 

Scene II 
Time: Next Morning. Place: Cowboy Camp. 

Jim — Say, Bill, do you suppose there are any Indians around 
here? 

Bill — Oh, I don't know. Let us go and see. 

They start off in opposite direction from Indian camp. During 
their absence Little Beaver takes some spying in hand, finds out 
their strength and position. He then returns to his camp. Cow- 
boys return home after fruitless hunt. 



BOYS AND GIRLS 103 

Scene III 
Time: Midnight. Place: Both Camps. 

Little Beaver creeping upon Cowboy Camp which is fast asleep. 
By some mishap he steps upon a dead twig and they awake. He 
dodges behind a large tree that is near at hand. They see no harm, 
and so go back to bed. Little Beaver then returns to his camp and 
bed. 

Scene IV 
Time: Next Morning. Place: Cowboy Camp. 

The Cowboys are ambushed on their way home from a hunt by 
Little Beaver and Showandassee and taken to the Indian Camp and 
tied to a young tree. 

Scene V 
Time: Near Midnight. Place: Indian Camp. 

Indians asleep. Cowboys tied loosely. After much quiet 
squirming BiU gets loose and unties Jim and together they kill the 
Indians. 

This play consisted almost entirely of ^' business/' 
There was very Uttle speaking. There was no '' star/' 
Several meals were prepared, eaten and cleared away. 
Each scene was a unit, however, and the whole play 
moved on naturally to a dramatic cUmax. 

The next year, when the author was twelve, he pre- 
pared another play of which he was the hero. He had 
looked forward to it all winter and had saved up money 
to buy his costume, which was an Indian suit. In con- 
nection with the play was a long speech by the hero. 
This was never written out and so is not preserved. The 
players chose a most beautiful spot for this outdoor pro- 
duction, with an eye for scenic effects. In the actual 
production they had the assistance of a woman who had 
had dramatic training, but as far as possible she merely 
assisted them in carrying out their own ideas. 



104 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

The interest in the dramatic takes another form in 
story-writing and poetry. These stories and poems 
throw considerable Hght on some of the interests of later 
childhood. Turn, for example, to the one printed in 
Appendix I. 

Individuality and the Critical Frame of Mind. 
Individual differences are more conspicuous as time goes 
on, but the variations are more obviously in the direction 
of the family type. This is no doubt largely due to the 
life in the family. But little traits crop out that assure 
us that Jimmy is a chip of the old block. But he has a 
mind of his own, however, and is less wilHng to be a chip. 
He wants to be a whole block. He will no longer swal- 
low whole everything that is told him. Long experience 
with the world has taught him caution and increduHty, 
which easily becomes shallow cynicism. Childish fancies 
and practises are now to be put away. Unreflecting and 
universal doubt is the small boy's armor behind which 
he goes forth to combat. 

A fine-illustration of this growing independence of 
thought and enjoyment in making decisions is seen 
almost every year in the sixth or seventh grades of a 
certain school. It has been the custom in this school to 
help support a local day nursery. The children also 
contribute to this philanthropy through their day school, 
so that by the time they are eleven or twelve it is an old 
story. It usually occurs to some one in these and sub- 
sequent grades to object to doing what they have always 
done. And then ensues a debate. On one occasion a 
committee was appointed to look into the matter. On 
this committee was the boy who had objected most to 
continuing the contribution. The committee went to 
the institution, saw for themselves what was being done 



BOYS AND GIRLS 105 

there for the babies, and reported so enthusiastically 
about the work that the class had to be advised not to 
vote all its accumulated resources to this one institution. 
The boy who had opposed the idea himself proposed that 
the class give all it had. All he needed was to be shown. 

In a certain fifth grade, stories from the Old Testament 
are used, not in a literal way, but as good and wholesome 
stories. The attention of the children is directed to the 
values in the story and to their representation of uni- 
versal human relations. When the story of David and 
Goliath was told, one boy piped up with, *' I do not be- 
lieve there ever was a man ten feet tall." After some 
argument the class decided that it did not matter 
whether Goliath was ten feet tall or not ; anyway, David 
was a brave man in the presence of danger. 

The Interest in Conduct and in the Prowess of 
Heroes. One aspect of this critical tendency is the 
effort to form standards of conduct, to organize conduct 
under acceptable ideals. These acceptable and usable 
ideals cannot be too general or absolute. They need to 
be in the form of rules or customs or simply the concrete 
acts of heroes who have won their admiration. It is 
not their qualities but their deeds that appeal to the 
responsive and alert minds of these children. Heroic 
behavior, prowess, physical and moral, power and skill 
in all its manifold forms — these are the deHght of child- 
hood. The movie makes its appeal at this point. The 
graphic exhibition of power and the intensely dramatic 
or ^^ rough-house scenes '^ swiftly following upon one 
another are the very bread of life to an eleven- or twelve- 
year-old; and these visualizations of conduct must in- 
evitably go far toward forming his standards and sug- 
gesting to him his own behavior. 



106 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

It would be interesting to know how far movie heroes 
are replacing baseball heroes in the minds of the boys. 

Competition and Cooperation. We have thought 
thus far chiefly of the interests and capacities of the chil- 
dren. We should keep constantly in mind the actual 
situations in which they find themselves from day to day, 
the persons they are with, and the effect upon them of 
these relations. An examination of the schedules of 
boys and girls will reveal an exceedingly crowded day, 
spent mostly in the company of children of the same age. 
The characteristic free behavior of children with one 
another is a combination of keen competition and cooper- 
ation. Both are wholesome. The stimulus of rivalry 
is not to be despised. Seeing another do something 
automatically makes a boy or girl desire to excel in that 
activity. And in thus plunging into the combat and 
the chase, the children discover their own capacities and 
hmitations. It is hard indeed to convince the small boy 
that he is beaten. There is no such word as fail to the 
ten -year-old. Failure is an adolescent experience. When 
the boy gives in he gives in for policy's sake, but his 
spirit is not conquered, and when he gets around the 
corner he again shouts defiance at his adversary. But 
he is learning caution, nevertheless, and knows himself 
better both by defeat and by victory. 

This indomitable or obstinate or individualistic 
spirit does not mean, however, that there can be no 
leaders among boys and girls. The one who proves his 
ability to get desired results can be the leader, although 
he may have to earn the right to lead by his physical 
superiority. The latter is by no means always the case, 
and the street gang will often follow the weaker but 
more intelUgent boy. The man is permitted to lead the 



BOYS AND GIRLS 107 

^' bunch/' not primarily because he is strong, but rather 
because he can control the situations which the group 
enjoys. He can provide amusements and games. He 
can do interesting things that the boys want to do. 
He can make possible the hikes and expeditions which 
the boys could not undertake alone. He releases the 
boys from certain responsibilities, and reduces the amount 
of thinking they have to do in order to have a good time. 
He is a good provider, and a greatly to be admired 
paragon, a miniature god to whom one gives ready 
allegiance — up to a certain point. 

This dehght in leadership merges with the enjoyment 
of cooperative activities. Leadership is at its best when 
it facilitates cooperation for common ends. The boys 
hke to be together and the girls hke to be together, and 
under certain conditions the boys and girls hke to be 
together. Being with others affords the necessary 
condition of the competitive activity which is so much 
enjoyed. Cooperation for competition more nearly 
characterizes this period of development than its re- 
verse, competition in cooperation. But in thus rivaUng 
one another's achievements they are securing all un- 
consciously the training in cooperation that is essential 
for their social development. 

The teacher's task Ues in providing suitable occasions 
for rivalry, suitable objects for competition, and in so 
arranging the conditions of competition that the group 
will gradually translate its competitive efforts into 
cooperative efforts. 

Group Loyalty. The basis for this transition is in 
the incipient group consciousness which identifies one's 
own interest with that of the group when another group 
appears on the horizon threatening the prestige or prop- 



108 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

erty of the first or the safety of the individuals concerned. 
Loyalty is born in conflict, in the competition of groups. 
But this group competition involves a certain degree of 
cooperation, just as in the case of individuals. The 
group enjoy their competition only when they agree to 
compete. There is no fun fighting when the other 
fellow won't fight back. And, furthermore, just as 
competing individuals become transformed into co- 
operating individuals by the mere appearance of another 
set of individuals on the horizon, so a group of competing 
groups is transformed into a cooperating whole when all 
the groups are confronted with a common enemy or a 
common task. It is the teacher's task to secure this 
transformation of competing groups into cooperating 
groups as rapidly as possible. 

Higher Loyalties through Cooperating Groups. 
But the interesting thing is that the relation between the 
individuals in any one group is not changed when the 
group ceases to compete with another and starts to 
cooperate with it instead. The presence of the larger 
task seems to inhibit the individualistic tendencies and 
to encourage the social tendencies. In terms of church- 
school practise this means that all individual competi- 
tion for exclusive honors such as badges for attendance 
should be transformed into cooperative activity for the 
sake of the class group. Class competition is enjoyed 
exceedingly. But class competition also should give 
way before the higher form of activity involved in co- 
operation among classes. The awarding of class ban- 
ners for attendance, therefore, although on a higher 
social level than the giving of individual badges, is not 
on the Christian level, for it involves the recognition 
not only of success, but of victory, that is, of another^s 



BOYS AND GIRLS 109 

defeat. If all had banners there would be less fun in 
it. The joy of defeating the rest is thus encouraged at 
the expense of the cooperative spirit. It should be said 
in palliation of this practise that it is far superior to the 
rewarding of successes which in the nature of the case 
consist in another's loss or humiliation. It is better, 
for example, than the social recognition that comes to a 
man who has made his wealth by refusing to share equita- 
bly with those who have helped him in his work. But 
it is not good enough. A higher and equally enjoyable 
procedure is to get every class to work for the record of 
the school, so that the school may beat its own record 
every year. Cooperation for a common purpose is 
here the essential motive. To make it thoroughly 
Christian it only remains for the pupils to see the rela- 
tion between attendance at church school and the prog- 
ress of the kingdom of God. If there is none, of course 
attendance must naturally be a matter of small moment 
to every one! 

The Religious Assets of Later Childhood. What 
then is the rehgious Ufe of the boys and girls? What 
religious problems do they face? How can the church 
school and the home assist them to grow reUgiously? 

Let us count up the rehgious assets of later childhood. 
There is, first, what we have called the parental instinct. 
Covered up though it may be in many children by habits 
of a contrary character, it is still there, and even in the 
worst bully will occasionally show itself in an attach- 
ment for a pet. Here is a real basis in human nature 
for much that is characteristically Christian. 

Second, there is increasing fondness for a closer form 
of social cooperation. The group, as such, rather than 
as a mere opportunity for a good time, is beginning to 



no CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

enlist budding loyalties that transcend individual in- 
terests. Here is the basis in life of true Christian 
sociaUzation of will. 

Third, there is intellectual alertness, manifesting it- 
self in incredulity, in exploration, in reading, in rabid 
inquisitiveness, and coupled with an ever increasing 
ability to subject action to intellectual control. Stand- 
ards of conduct can be increasingly effective and pur- 
poses can include wider and wider ranges of conduct and 
extend over longer periods of time. Witness, for 
example, the case of the boy who planned all winter for 
the play he was going to give the following summer. 
Here is the basis in mental ability for the increasing 
organization of life and its purposes in terms of the 
Christian standard. 

Finally, there is the increasing interest in persons and 
their deeds, which reaches its maximum at early adoles- 
cence in what is called hero-worship, and in a shghtl}^ 
different form, at middle adolescence, in chumming. 
The idealization of personalitj^, the setting up of a 
picture of w^hat one wants a person to be and identifying 
this ideal with the person as he is — here is the basis, 
in appreciation, of the peculiarly Christian emphasis 
on the ultimate and supreme worth of every indi- 
vidual. 

Hindrances to Religious Life. Over against these 
wonderful religious assets of later childhood we have 
to set certain other tendencies of individual and social 
life that make our work as teachers of religion 
difficult. 

There is nothing in the physical and mental make-up 
that is really antagonistic to our purposes as Christian 
educators except the presence of those natural desires 



BOYS AND GIRLS 111 

and tendencies which are anti-social in character. 
The chief trouble comes from the bad habits already 
formed: habits of disrespect and irreverence, habits of 
selfish indulgence or of indifference to others' rights; 
habits of subterfuge and deception, of indecency in 
thought and practise. These are the direct results of 
unchristian surroundings. The boys and girls them- 
selves are not at fault for being httle savages when so- 
ciety itself provides them with no opportunity for being 
anything else. The city gang is the result of social 
neglect. The marauding gang is a rare thing in the 
country. There is abundant opportunity in the rural 
districts for wholesome activity, but what can a bunch 
of boys in the city do? In the country there is still 
some semblance of normal family Hfe, but what can the 
family in the city do? How many famihes take their 
recreation all together? How many boys would have 
a good time doing the kinds of things that are possible 
for adults in the city? 

But beyond these gaps in the provision which society 
makes for normal childhood, there are the vicious in- 
fluences, some blatant, some insidious, that surround 
the youth on every side. Fortunately much of the 
moral laxity of modern Ufe is not within the range of the 
boys' and girls' understanding and does them no harm. 
But much that is not understood, even, is quietly form- 
ing the standards of business and sex relations that will 
persist through life. It is these early standards that 
are the most permanent. The throes of adolescence 
leave the individual on an apparently higher moral level, 
largely because of the persistence of early standards, 
which were themselves on a high level. Give us the 
child until he is eight, say the Roman CathoHcs, and 



112 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

we care not what you do to him afterwards. How much 
more is this true if the period can be extended to ten or 
twelve! 

Having been brought up in an atmosphere of indiffer- 
ence to the rights of individuals in school and business 
and e very-day concerns, of quiet assumption of low 
moral standards of relations between the sexes, as exhib- 
ited in conversation, on bill boards, and at movies, is it 
strange that adolescence frequently finds itself utterly 
unable to withstand the solicitations of evil-mindedness? 

Overworked Childhood, Another problem arises 
out of the preoccupation of children with affairs not 
strictly religious. What a busy day the nine-year-olds 
have! The typical day affords small opportunity for 
leisure or for play of a spontaneous character, and none 
for the preparation of church-school work. City chil- 
dren keep up the pace till late at night. They get up 
just in time to scramble into clothes, snatch a bite to 
eat and race for school. The better-to-do have spare 
time taken up with special lessons : music, language and 
dancing. The children are too busy to be rehgious, too 
much engaged in their own affairs to take part in the 
building of the city of God. 

The Responsiveness of Later Childhood. But 
give them a chance, and their capacity for Christian 
conduct is amazing. Their environment is a challenge 
as well as a drawback. Here and now they can try out 
their powers as little citizens of the Kingdom. By 
worship and study and training in Christian coopera- 
tion under wise leadership they can arm themselves 
fully for the present conflict and against the day of the 
greater trials and temptations of adolescence. Speak- 
ing out of his own heart, one ten-year-old boy wrote 



BOYS AND GIRLS 113 

this prayer of aspiration, a true product of childhood 
religion : 

" O Lord, we do a good many wrongs in a day, but you are kind 
and tender, and you forgive us. And we must try to do better, and 
we must keep on trying, and we will keep on trying for you are in 
us, and helping us all of the time.'' 

The Purpose of Religious Education for Children 
Nine to Twelve. As an aid in the discovery of our 
method, let us now formulate the purpose of religious 
education for boys and girls in the later years of child- 
hood. 

With adolescence comes increasing capacity and need 
for organization of personaHty. From nine to twelve 
this organization can only be approached. But so far 
as organization of Ufe in terms of the Christian purpose 
is possible, this must be achieved. Fundamental to 
the subsequent unifying of personaHty is the formation 
of correct habits of thought and conduct and feeling 
now. Many such habits have already been formed. 
There are many left, the need for which arises out of the 
far broader fellowship of the boys and girls. 

As our first purpose, therefore, let us remind ourselves of the 
necessity of actual training in Christian living which has as its object 
specific habits of conduct : clean thinking, clean living, the doing of 
good turns, generous treatment of others, fair play, regular prayer, 
if possible, or at any rate the constant thought of God as companion 
in the moral struggle. 

And, second, to bolster up these habits, the acquisition of ideals 
or rules of conduct which embody the Christian standard, and which 
imply the moral leadership of Jesus, in whose conduct the boys and 
girls shall find their most appeaUng ideal and their most effective 
rule of life. As will be seen in our formulation of method, these rules 
must of course be the product of the children's own thinking and be 



114 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

worked out in imagination and in practise in every possible sort of 
situation. 

Third, to give body and color to the Christian standard concern- 
ing the details of behavior by constantly enlarging and intensifying 
the children's consciousness of their world citizenship, of their 
kinship with the children of the whole world, of the Christian move- 
ment as a mighty cause to which they are, as a matter of course, to 
devote their lives. 

Fourth, to anticipate adolescent changes with suitable information 
on matters of sex, associated intimately with all that is sacred and 
noble in the child's own imagination and with the hours of highest 
fellowship between father and son and mother and daughter. 

General Principles of Method. So much for our 
purpose. Our method follows the same general princi- 
ples already outhned, with adaptations to the special 
needs and problems of children from nine to twelve. 

1. There is the necessity of providing some kind of organized 
group life, either in the church-school class, or in the Junior de- 
partment, or in clubs, or in all these. The need for cooperating 
companionships and the desire for competition should be met in 
such a way as to insure the intensive and extensive development 
of social motives, so that by twelve or thirteen years of age the child's 
interest and loyalty shall be attached to the church of Christ, either 
through some organization or by direct membership. We must seek 
to Christianize the present social relations of the pupils in class, 
school, home, day school, and so on, by interpreting this present life 
in terms of Christian standards, and by providing such activities 
as will give training in Christian ways of doing things. Class duties, 
school duties, home duties, all of which contribute definitely to the 
happiness and efficiency of the group, are needed. Organized service 
in the community through the care and expenditure of class funds; 
visits to homes for crippled children, day nurseries, homes for the 
aged, schools for the blind, with a view to adding to the cheer of the 
inmates; correspondence with children of other lands, and the mak- 
ing of ^things that will be useful to others; relief work of all sorts, 
and many other activities which have social interest are essential 
and enjoyed by the boys and girls. 



BOYS AND GIRLS 115 

2. Training in worship that is proper for them. 

3. The children will need the help that comes from hearing and 
reading stories of deeds involving moral struggles and problems 
like their own and showing the natural social consequences of right 
and wrong choices. Many of the Old Testament stories are admi- 
rable for this purpose. The nine-year-old can well appreciate 
Abraham's generosity to Lot. The ten-year-old responds to the 
stirring appeals of Amos for justice to the poor, and enters into 
his clever trap for securing the attention of the crowd at Bethel. 
These Old Testament stories have the additional advantage of 
providing the background for the appreciation of the life of Jesus, 
which is also well adapted to the latter part of this period. But, 
suitable as are the Bible stories, much more is needed to give the 
pupil the wide social sympathy and understanding that w^e desire 
for him. Stories of immigrants and of people of other lands are 
a great help, and the children are capable of considerable careful 
research into the ways of foreign hfe so well described in periodicals 
like Everyland and in many books published by the Missionary 
Education Movement. It is important, however, that they should 
not be led to suppose that '' Missions '' is a separate subject of 
study or interest in the church school — as though to be friendly with 
one's neighbors were a sort of afterthought instead of the very 
heart of Christianity. 

Whatever story material is used will be of added value if it is 
freely dramatized by the pupils. This appKes particularly to the 
first two or three years of this period. Old Testament stories 
lend themselves to spontaneous representation, and the pupils 
enjoy taking parts and reproducing freely the meaning and the words 
of the characters. The words will be few, but the expectation of 
taking a part adds interest to the preparation of the lesson and in- 
creases the vividness of the children's imagery. Pictures also greatly 
help in getting the children into the atmosphere of ancient Israel 
or of modern China. 

Prepared dramas, unless written by the children, take too much 
time as a rule to justify their inclusion in our program. But it is a 
fine piece of training for a group of children to get up a short Bibhcal 
or '' Missionary " play themselves, studying and making costumes 
and scenery, writing the fines, and so on. 

AU these matters are a part of our effort to make vivid sections 



116 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

of human experience which will help the children understand and 
improve their own experience. 

4. The children need also formulated ideals or rules of conduct 
in the form of texts, poems, verses, psalms, hymns, which express 
Christian standards and appreciations. They learn these readily 
and enjoy using them in concert. 

5. They need, in addition to what has been described above, 
some specific information concerning some of the great social in- 
stitutions, such as the church, and of certain church practises, 
such as baptism, the Lord's Supper, the church year, the services. 
Here is a splendid chance for the pastor to come into close touch 
with every young member of his parish. 

6. Various instructional activities are possible now that would be 
too difficult for the younger children: writing answers to questions, 
writing short essays, making charts of attendance, decorating, mak- 
ing a class book, and the Hke. Discussion is now more profitable, 
and story-telling by the pupils as well as the dramatizing mentioned 
above are more effective. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. It is customary to separate boys and girls between the ages of 
nine and twelve in the church school. What differences between 
boys and girls have you noticed that would make desirable or re- 
quire this practise? 

2. What is there about the youngest Junior children that justifies 
or requires or makes desirable their separation from Primary chil- 
dren? Should they be separated for all purposes? 

3. If you can do so, ask several children ten or eleven years old 
to state what kinds of motion pictures they prefer, and who their 
favorite actors and actresses are. The following form might be used 
to record the answers: 

1. Your name. 

2. Your age. 

3. What kind of a picture do you like best? 

4. What actor or actress do you like best? 

5. Which one do you like second best? 

6. What well known picture do you like best? 



BOYS AND GIRLS 117 

After looking over the results of this investigation, define some of 
the problems of religious education for children of this age. 

4. Have schedules similar to Appendix III, Chart C, filled out by 
a group of children from nine to twelve years of age. Summarize 
the results as was suggested for the younger children. 

5. Cases 25 to 30 belong to the period studied in this chapter. 
They may suggest similar instances from your observation. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE TRANSITION 

From Childhood to Youth 

Some General Facts. The charts given below 
reveal astonishing facts that may challenge the creduUty 
of some of the readers who examine them. Doubtless, 
however, they would be matched by charts of almost any 

1765 r^ 



1214 



425 / \ 



S /O I?. lif. i(o iS lo ^o-»- 

Figure 1 

church-schooFs enrolment. The charts on crime and 
conduct can be checked by making others on the basis 
of the police statistics and school conduct marks in one's 
own town or city. 

The first chart is taken from a table in G. Stanley 
HalFs Adolescence^ Vol. I, page 326. It shows graphic- 
ally the number of sentences imposed on 7475 boys from 

118 



THE TRANSITION 



119 



eight to twenty years old. The figures at the left in- 
dicate the number of cases, and the figures at the bottom 
the ages of the boys. 

On page 346 of the same volume, Hall gives a chart 
showing the school marks for conduct of 3012 ItaUan 



11 
70 
69 

loL 
LI 



II II /3 t4 is /i n f% 




Figure 2 



boys, from eleven to eighteen years old. ^^ Conduct was 
marked as good, bad and indifferent, according to the 
teacher^s estimate, and was good at (age) eighteen in 74 
per cent of the cases; at eleven in 70 per cent; at seven- 
teen in 69 per cent; and at fourteen in only 58 per cent.'' 
Figures 3, 4 and 5 are taken from Coe's Tlfie Spiritual 
Life, The first one shows the age distribution of the 
reUgious awakenings of 99 men. It reads thus: Eight 
per cent of the men report a rehgious awakening at 
eleven years; nineteen per cent report a rehgious awak- 
ening at twelve years; twenty-two per cent at thirteen 
years; only nine per cent at fourteen years, etc. 



120 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 



Figure 4 shows the age of the decisive religious awak- 
ening of 84 of these 99 men. The curve is more irregular, 
but the high and low points are at about the same ages. 
It reads the same as figure 3. 





/2. /3 Z*^ fS /^ 
Figure 4 



zi. ^\ 2</ 



In Figure 5 the same interesting facts appear. This 
shows the age given by 272 ministers as the age of their 
own conversion. It is remarkably like the last curve. 

These curves represent what is going on in the young 



THE TRANSITION 



121 




people. Let us compare these facts with the influences 
being brought to bear on them. Figures 6 and 7 show 
the curve of ehmination in two city schools.^ The 
ages are at the bottom. The number of pupils is at the 
left. The curve represents the number of pupils of 
each age enrolled in the schools. 

Not less significant are the facts of church-school 
enrolment. In a survey, not in print, made by the 
students of the Y. M. C. A. Training School at Spring- 
field, Mass., the following facts are brought out con- 
cerning the enrolment and attendance of boys in 

^The figures for these graphs are found in Strayer, Age and Grade Census of 
Schools and Colleges. U. S. Bureau of Education Bulletin 451. 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 




Elimination curve for Somerville, Mass. 




i 7 S *f to If /z. /3 /*/ /r /C» '7 tt tf t.o* 

Figure 7 
Elimination curve for Philadelphia, Penn. 



THE TRANSITION 



123 



thirty-four Springfield church schools.^ Figure 8 shows 
the enrolment in actual numbers. The enrolment in- 
creases to thirteen years, at which point it is the highest. 
That is, there are more boys of thirteen enrolled in the 




Figure 8. — Enrolment 

Springfield schools than of any other age. But see what 
happens next! 

Figure 9 gives the percentage of attendance for a short 
period. Ages ten and twelve are the high points here, 
and then there is a steady decline in the attendance of 
the boys as well as in the number on the roll. 

1 These two sets of facts were compiled by O. C. Fowler. 



124 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

loo 




So » 

so* 
Zo. 
'o ^ 
. 



9 iO n /Z. /3 /V iS' /4 '7 '^ /? 2o 2o^ 

Figure 9. — Attendance 

Some Particular Facts. From this bird's-eye view 
let us turn to some individual young people, just to see 
what they are like. Here is a thirteen-year-old girl: 

'^1. Physical: Very slender but growing taller; very little 
strength. One night she challenged me to a race of about fifty 
yards. She gave up and stopped before it was half over. 

" 2. New interest in self: Very dressy, wearing large ribbon or 
fancy tulle bows on her hair and very large white furs. She often 
fusses with her clothes during class and delights in ^ counting off ' 
the buttons on her own or some other girl's dress. 

'^ 3. Social instincts: She says she has a girl chum and likes her 
' because she is handsome and kind.' She is sensitive to all the 
life around her— so much so that it is extremely difficult to interest 
her in anything else. She is full of life and independent. With 



THE TRANSITION 125 

girls who are timid she is inclined to be overbearing. Altruism: 
She always wants to do things to help, but when the time comes she 
lets little things hinder her. For instance, although she had of her 
own accord promised to help with the Christmas dinner that our 
class was to take to a poor family, she failed to come to help. One 
day she went with a friend to see a blind woman and girl and read 
to them. She was very enthusiastic when she gave her account of it. 

'^ Interest in the other sex: She is very fond of boys. She talks 
about them a great deal to the other girls and always looks at them 
very admiringly and comments on them when they go to the plat- 
form with their birthday offerings. Once when a certain night was 
mentioned as a possible one for a social she said, ' I can't come. 
That's beau night.' Her attitude with boys is partially shown in 
the following incident: Once when we were at a social meeting of 
the class she said, * I know a grand game. Let's play it. We 
played it with a crowd of boys and girls and it was the most fun I 
ever had.' It turned out to be a game full of harmful possibihties, 
a kissing game in which the kissing is done when the two are in a 
room alone. This girl seemed absolutely unconscious of any idea 
that it was not a proper game. 

" 4. Control by ideals: Once on going by the home of another 
girl, she said, ' What an old dump you Hve in! ' I was told of this 
by the girl's mother. The next social meeting was to be in the 
home of this poor girl. To my great relief the girl about whom I 
am writing acted in a very ladylike way during the whole evening, 
showing that she had some good ideals of how to receive hospitality. 
There was an old grandfather in the home to whom she was very 
sweet and attentive. She often hummed or whispered during prayer 
at Sunday school, and didn't always assume an attitude of kindness 
or attention to the speaker on the platform. She wants to bring 
rag-time music to all of the social meetings. 

" 5. Religious: She is a member of the church, but as can be 
gathered from the above she is not yet consciously accepting the 
ideals of Christ as her own ideals. Her home and other environ- 
ment evidently pull strongly the other way." ^ 

Some boys fourteen and fifteen years of age were 
asked to write down their idea of an ideal classmate, to 

1 From a student's observations. 



126 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

indicate which of their classmates represented this ideal, 
and to give incidents showing what they meant. Here is 
one such statement. 

'^ I think John is an ideal classmate. By an ideal classmate I 
mean that he is a sensible, well behaving young chap. He is fond 
of athletics and is full of fun and jokes. He likes to take long walks 
around the corridors and talk about interesting things. When he 
gets in trouble or a scrape he does not try to wiggle out of it but takes 
his medicine as well as the rest. One of his best traits is that he is not 
selfish and if any one does him a good turn he gladly does it back at 
another time. 

'^ That he is an ideal classmate is shown by the following instances. 
He has often done me a favor in study-halls by asking the teacher 
questions for me. He also loaned me his science book so I could get 
mine copied up and handed in in time." 

Certain other typical interests are suggested by the 
following quotations from a boy's diary. 

Age 13 J. Went to school. After school I went skating on the 
pond, but it was not good. I went over to the playground. Helen, 
Jim, Rea, Dora, Alice, and some others were there. After supper 
I went over to Mrs. H's. She had invited all the boys in our room 
to come. We had a peach of a time. Had phonograph and games, 
riddles, refreshments. All the boys but George were there. Had 
fine time. Got home at 10.30 p.m. 

Age 16. This morning went to H. in the car. Went up to 
Henry's and left my overcoat. Then went up to Benny's. Saw 
him. Then went up to Harriet's. Had fine time. Came down 
and had some soda with Benny. Went up to Harriet's. Had din- 
ner there. Had an elegant time. Best I ever had about. She 
gave me her picture. It is just elegant. I invited her to come out 
Saturday. She is coming. Went over to Jim's and to Mr. C's, 
the Principal of the high school. He was out. Came up on Oak 
Street, went over to fair grounds, and played baseball with Jack, 
Henry, Jim, and Mat and some others. My side beat 4-3. I 
pitched. Came home on 5.45 car. Got to N. 6.15 p.m. Went up 
to house. Today has been one of the happiest days I have had for a 
good while. Next Saturday I expect a good time also. 



THE TRANSITION 127 

The Growth of Sex Consciousness. These few 
instances will call to our minds many other similar ones 
in our own experience or in what we have seen in young 
people. 

Very obviously, these children are very different from 
those nine to twelve years old. They are beginning to 
shoot up. Their feet and hands are getting too big. 
They are awkward in body and mind. They are forever 
getting in their own and other people's way. Heretofore 
they have fitted into the scheme of things as they are. 
They no longer fit. They bring a new factor, namely, 
themselves, into the scheme, and we have to readjust 
ourselves in recognition of the fact that they are. 

During the preceding years, we have been obliged to 
set off the boys from the girls in our consciousness, but 
it was boys and girls we were distinguishing, and the 
sex differences of manhood and womanhood were not 
apparent. But now sex is a factor to be reckoned with. 
We are deahng with young men and young women in 
whom physiological changes are taking place by which 
they are to win title to membership in the community of 
full grown males and females. 

These physiological changes are sources of interest and 
anxiety and temptation. They frequently are not un- 
derstood and frequently are misrepresented by the talk 
of the street. Boys suffer most from vicious suggestion, 
and the deadly stimulus of half truths impelling with 
extraordinary insistence to the discovery of the whole 
truth by hook or crook. Girls suffer more from sheer 
ignorance, lacking the intensity of interest of the boys. 
But there is also with them the danger of misled curiosity 
and of over-stimulation of interest. 

We might as well recognize these facts at the beginning, 



128 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

and by frankly facing them ourselves, help to dispel the 
unholy and prurient silence, not to say embarrassment, 
that curses our every effort toward a wholesome recog- 
nition of the facts of sex. 

The greatest need for information is just before 
puberty. If we can develop the right attitudes toward 
the opposite sex, attitudes of chivalry and cooperation, 
secure habits of cleanliness in thought and speech and 
act, explain the characteristic phenomena accompanying 
the maturing of the reproductive organs, which the boy 
or the girl must expect, surround the whole with an 
atmosphere of matter-of-fact e very-day ness, answering 
accurately every question, replacing the modern taboo 
with a practical idealism which faces facts unafraid, we 
shall have adequately prepared the way for the ripening 
of the consciousness of sex. It will be easy then to an- 
swer the new questions that arise, and to cultivate a 
manly and womanly expectation of family life. In- 
formation concerning the opposite sex will be demanded, 
if the relations between child and parent are already on 
a confidential basis. No more should be given than is 
asked for, and such as is given should allay, not arouse, 
curiosity. 

The regimen of wholesome sex hfe during these years 
depends on these factors: 

1. Personal hygiene, including every precaution against irrita- 
tion of any kind, whether from too Httle exercise, too rich food, hot 
rooms, or too httle bathing. The physical tone must be kept up 
and excess energy must be worked off in outdoor exercise. 

2. Frequent association with the opposite sex in groups, on the 
same plane as the association of brothers and sisters as equals in the 
same family, so that the attitudes of wholesome democratic family 
relationships will characterize the attitudes of boys and girls of 
different families toward one another. A practical brotherhood 



THE TRANSITION 129 

and sisterhood is the greatest defense there is against abnormal 
stimulation of sex interests. 

3. Information concerning one's own sex life, increasing gradually 
to cover the essential facts of reproduction, based on information 
familiar since childhood, and imparted by the parents, and concern- 
ing the individual and social consequences of illicit intercourse in 
contrast with the Christian ideal of a sacrificial family life. 

4. An abundance of intellectual interest. 

5. Consecration to the Christian ideal for the world. 

Just to bring concretely before us the untutored atti- 
tudes of man toward woman and of woman toward man, 
I shall quote the following primitive accounts. The 
first is an extract from a story in Sanskrit.^ It repre- 
sents what man thinks about woman when his thoughts 
are unaffected by any sort of appreciation of her human- 
ity. 

" In the beginning, when Twashtri came to the creation of woman 
he found that he had exhausted his materials in the making of man, 
and that no solid elements were left. In this dilemma, after pro- 
found meditation, he did as follows. He took the rotundity of the 
moon, and the curves of creepers, and the clinging of tendrils, and 
the trembling of grass, and the slenderness of the reed, and the bloom 
of flowers, and the hghtness of leaves, and the timidity of the hare, 
and the vanity of the peacock, and the clustering of rows of bees, 
and the joyous gaiety of sunbeams, and the weeping of clouds, and 
the fickleness of the winds, and the softness of the parrot's bosom, and 
the hardness of adamant, and the sweetness of honey, and the cruelty 
of the tiger, and the warm glow of fire, and the coldness of snow, and 
the chattering of jays, and the cooing of the kokila, and the hypocrisy 
of the crane, and the fidelity of the chakrawaka, and compounding 
all these together, he made woman and gave her to man. But after 
one week, man came to him and said: Lord, this creature that you 
have given me makes my life miserable. She chatters incessantly 
and teases me beyond endurance, never leaving me alone; and she 
requires incessant affection, and takes all my time up, and cries 

\ Quoted by Thomas, W. I., in Source Book for Social Origins, University of 
Chicago Press. 



130 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

about nothing, and is always idle; and so I have come to give her 
back again, as I cannot live with her. So Twashtri said: Very well. 
And he took her back. Then, after another week, man came back 
to him and said: Lord, I find that my hfe is very lonely, since I 
gave you back that creature. I remember how she used to dance 
and sing to me, and look at me out of the corner of her eye, and 
play with me and cHng to me; and her laughter was music, and she 
was beautiful to look at, and soft to touch; so give her back again. 
Then after only three days, man came back to him again and said: 
Lord, I know not how it is; but after all I have come to the conclu- 
sion that she is more of a trouble than a pleasure to me; so please 
take her back again. But Twashtri said: Out on you! Be off! 
I will have no more of this. You must manage how you can. 
Then man said: But I cannot Hve with her. And Twashtri repUed: 
Neither could you live without her. And he turned his back on 
man, and went on with his work. Then man said: What is to be 
done? For I cannot hve either with her or without her." 

The second is from the journal of a girl of fiifteen. It 
represents a perfectly natural attitude which is inhibited 
in some girls, and is even more outspoken in others, but 
which, in greater or less degree, is present in all. 

*' Jan. 3. Just think of it, Jim says he is going to claim me ten 
years from tonight, but he will forget all about it by that time. . . . 
Jan. 7. Jim was up this evening and that is the only thing that has 
happened of any importance. . . . Jan. 8. Jim left right away 
after dinner because he had promised to take Miss A. out riding. . . . 
Went to C. E. and church. Jim had Miss A. to church but I don't 
care. Jan. 9. The weather has been too disagreeable for anything 
today and I guess I have too, at least L. said I had. I haven't 
seen Jim all day, guess he went to see Miss A. this evening. (I 
think he must be getting pretty badly stuck on her.) Jan. 10 . . . 
As Jim did not put in his appearance here I suppose he must have gone 
up to Miss A.'s (dear me, but I wish she would go). Jan. 11. I 
didn't go to school today and this afternoon I went up to Helen's 
and then Helen, Alice, Florence and myself went sleigh-riding with 
Jack. Jim came up this evening but I went off with the girls to the 
C. E. social in the music rooms and left Mamma to entertain him 
which I think she done with success, but at the social George, Jack 



THE TRANSITION 131 

and Max acted like perfect fools, that is the only word that will 
express how they acted. Jan. 12. Jack and George have made me so 
disgusted w^th them all day in school, acted very near as bad as they 
did last night, but Jim came up this evening so I got over my disgust 
for I come to the conclusion that at least one person in the world 
could behave themselves and act like a gentleman. Jan. 13. . . . 
Haven't seen Jim today, too bad, isn't it? " 

Growing Intellectual and Emotional Capacity. 

There are many other matters that concern us, however, 
besides the changing attitudes toward the opposite sex. 
The physiological growth characteristic of these years 
is accompanied by an enlarging capacity for abstract 
thinking. It is now that most of those who are to grow 
up intellectually at all achieve the characteristic mental 
activity of normal intelligence. These early years see 
an exaggeration in the direction of interest in generaliza- 
tions, in the Universal, the Absolute, in Truth, Beauty 
and Goodness, as things forever fixed and supreme. The 
new feeling for logical procedure leads to extreme con- 
clusions, to rigid ideals and standards, to excessive criti- 
cism of self and others. 

Along with this growing intellectual capacity comes 
an intensification of emotional response. The body 
responds more completely to contrasts and shocks which 
would leave a child unaffected. The somatic rumblings 
and sharp detonations of true emotion are now possible, 
nor does it take much of a spark to touch off internal 
explosions. This is no doubt partly due to the fact that 
inhibitions are more numerous, and the precise behavior 
called for by a situation is not so certain as it was in 
childhood. And so, not being able to respond ade- 
quately to a difficult situation by fighting, or calling 
names, or running away, the adolescent is swamped by 



132 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

the overflow of dammed-up energy into the inner muscu- 
lar and vascular systems. The circulation is thrown 
out of gear, digestive organs behave queerly, and various 
other things happen which tend to confuse his conscious- 
ness. 

These new capacities and experiences call for a re- 
organization of self; they make the old self conspicuous 
in consciousness and they make a new self essential. At 
first this new self is sought by a self-assertion that 
catches hold of any impulse and sets it up as master in 
the house. The old '^ I want '' of the four-year-old 
becomes the ^' I will '' of the fourteen-year-old. He 
objects to restraint. He insists on his own independence. 
He revolts against authority. 

Then comes the time when the seeker for a self becomes 
more keenly conscious of other selves of the same and 
opposite sex. He tries to be somebody else, perhaps. 
He revels in personality as in a newly discovered country. 
Persons loom large in his consciousness. He forgets him- 
self in his absorption into the society of selves, and he 
finds himself at last in the larger selfhood of a world 
society. Before adolescence he would give and get with 
equal enthusiasm. Then when the transition came he 
was for a time intent on getting more than on giving. 
But this gave way, under encouragement, to the desire 
to give, and in this dominant motive, just to give, he 
found life. 

But these are moods. Unless attached to some ap- 
propriate activity they tend to pass away, and a con- 
stitutional temperament, deeper than the adolescent 
irruptions, becomes the permanent attitude of the in- 
dividual. 

Thus we have seen the basis of the adolescent hero- 



THE TRANSITION 133 

worship, the capacity for loyalty and team-play, the 
development of the social spirit, the desire for self-dis- 
covery and self-expression, the kaleidoscopic change of 
interests. It is easy to understand the youth's ^' yeasti- 
ness ^' of mind, as Coe calls it, the welter of inconsistencies 
between ideals and conduct, the seething imagination 
occupied with self, with persons and personal relations 
or standards of personal conduct. What a splendid 
opportunity for religious education — the longings, the 
idealism, the interest in destiny, the capacity for con- 
secrated activity in loyalty to the church of Christ, for 
new understanding of the worth of the individual human 
being, and hence for a new appreciation of God! And 
what are we doing about it? Some few get into the 
church. But what of the rest? Figures 8 and 9 tell us. 
Look at them once more. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Make a list of things some high-school boy or girl you know is 
interested in. 

2. What difference is there between the ways high-school boys and 
girls behave toward one another, and the ways in which grammar- 
school boys and girls behave toward one another? Is the interest 
of boys in girls and of girls in boys good, or bad, or neither? What 
are its social implications? What use can be made of it in religious 
education? 

3. At what age should children join the church? On what 
psychological facts do you base your conclusion? 

4. In terms of the educational process, what is the precise value of 
Decision Day? Is there anything about it that deserves to be re- 
tained in a thoroughgoing school of rehgion? If so, point out how 
its values can be conserved without its deleterious effects. 

On the problem of sex education, Maurice A. Bigelow's book. 
Sex Education, will be found particularly helpful. 

For further reading on Adolescence, consult the Bibliography, 
Appendix II. 



CHAPTER IX 

OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 
The Physical Basis 

" Where have I come from, where did you pick me up? " the baby 
asked its mother. 

She answered haK crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to 
her breast, — 

^' You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darUng. 

" You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with 
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade 
you then. 

" You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship 
I worshiped you. 

'' In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the hfe of my mother 
you have lived. 

'' In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have 
been nursed for ages. 

^' When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered 
as a fragrance about it. 

'^ Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow 
in the sky before the simrise. 

'' Heaven's first darling, twin-bom with the morning Hght, you 
have floated down the stream of the world's Hfe, and at last you have 
stranded on my heart. 

'^ As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong 
to all have become mine. 

'' For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What 
magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of 
mine? " ^ — Tag ore 

The Beginning of Life. For many thousands of 
years there has been going on an immense experiment 

1 Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from 
The Crescent Moon, copyright, 1913, by The Macmillan Co. 

134 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 135 

in life. Since the first combination of chemical elements 
occurred which possessed spontaneity, which responded 
actively from within its little exclusive bulk to the 
less Uving ooze without, this experiment in life has been 
going on. Having gathered to itself a new chemical 
reaction, this new combination of elements proceeded 
to do what had never been done before, it began to grow 
by absorbing something outside of itself into its own 
structure. Instead of yielding its structure, its particu- 
lar chemical combination, to the forces playing upon it, 
as all other combinations had done, it succeeded in be- 
coming itself a center of creative force, transforming in- 
stead of merely being transformed by the stuff of the world. 

Only the great universe had possessed this mysterious 
spontaneity, and it could only change its form. The 
universe could not grow, and nothing within it could 
transform anything else into a means for growing. Only 
this new thing could do that, and so it lived. It be- 
came a new creative force, a new center of life within the 
physical universe. 

That little germ of life did not possess in itself all the 
complex structm-e of vegetable and animal existence 
that now covers the earth. All it had was life. But it 
started going a process that has been going on ever since. 
It is essentially a process of conservation, of holding on, 
of resisting forces that tend to disintegrate the particu- 
lar chemical combination involved. This thread of 
resisting, creating life has never been completely broken. 
Every Hving thing, including trees and men, can trace 
its life back to the primeval ooze. 

With changing habitat, the original structure of the 
life-carrier changed, and of the various types evolved, 
some resisted outside forces better than others, growing 



136 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

faster and breaking up into new centers faster than some 
other structures, and so crowding out the less adapted 
forms. The existence of the hfe-carriers themselves 
constituted a change in the physical environment which 
the living organisms had to face. Life met life, and, as 
when Greek met Greek, something different had to 
happen. Here were two resisting, creating centers at 
the same job in the same place. They must either 
cooperate or fight. Some fought and some cooperated, 
and then the cooperating groups had the better of it. 
The cooperating groups were not all aUke. Some suc- 
ceeded better than others in maintaining themselves. 

The Continuation of Life. These successful groups 
were the first real individuals. Heretofore life was con- 
tinued simply by having the life carriers break up into 
two pieces. There was no death. Now the continua- 
tion of the structure became a more complicated task. 
It still had to be done by breaking up, but the most 
successful groups were those that were made of hfe- 
carriers some of which did the breaking up while others 
obtained food. This division of labor among the differ- 
ent cells composing the new Hfe units became finally so 
complete that even the reproducing cells specialized 
into two kinds, both of which were necessary for the 
process of cell division by which life was continued in 
new individuals. When the reproducing cells became 
so specialized that they had to do all the reproducing, 
they had, of course, to reproduce all the different kinds 
of cells needed in the new organism, including the 
specialized reproducing cells, which would do the same 
thing over again for the new organism. Thus the line 
of life is not from organism to organism, but from re- 
production cells to reproduction cells. It is not the 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 



137 



dual that is reproduced, but the stock. Diagramat- 
the process is as follows : 



K ^"^ 




y\ 




T^ 


— 


n 


B 




B 




B 




B 



Figure 10 
R = Reproductive cells or germ plasm. B : 



: Rest of body or so«iataplasm 



As the single cell from which the new structure grows 
begins to divide, these new cells speciahze on the kind of 
tissue to be produced: bones, muscles, digestive organs, 
nerve tissue, reproductive organs. It is not the bones 
and muscles and digestive organs, etc., which produce 
the offspring of the new individual, but the reproductive 
cells, or germ plasm, which grew from that group of cells 
that speciaHzed in this direction at the very beginning 
of the process of cell division mentioned a moment ago. 

Providing for Variation. This method of produc- 
ing new individuals would not be very successful were 
it not for further speciaUzation of reproductive cells 
into two kinds, male and female, which brings about the 
combination of many hnes of ancestry in each individual, 
and so makes possible an infinite number of variations 
within the species. 

How stocks converge upon the individual is clearly 
seen by the accompanying diagram. If the total num- 
ber of individuals from which the species is reproduced 
remains confined to narrow hmits, it will be seen how the 
stock will run out for lack of new varieties. The nar- 
rower the limits of ancestry, the more completel^^ will 
the offspring resemble one another. 

The immense intermingling even of varied stocks in 



138 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 



a species results in considerable similarity of offspring, 
and maintains a community of interests and abilities, 
and, therefore, of understanding, that would not be 
possible if each stock were independent of every other. 
There is a certain amount of original nature common to 
all individuals of the species, no matter what their stock 
may be. This original nature represents the result of 




Figure U 
Convergence of stocks. D = Male; O «■ Female 

the conserving process spoken of at the beginning of the 
chapter. Each new union of individuals makes possible 
a new combination of traits, both in the new individual 
and in the reproductive possibilities of the new individual. 
Whatever advantage this new combination gives is 
conserved in the stock, therefore, and added to the future 
possibilities of the species. The result is that each 
individual is both new and old. He is like his stock and 
his species, tending to differ from the species as a whole 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 139 

just as his immediate ancestry differs from it, and tend- 
ing to differ from either hne of ancestry by the infusion 
of traits conspicuous in the other. 

The Meaning of Infancy. As traits accumulate 
and are conserved and handed on, it naturally follows 
that the road from cell to complete individual gets 
longer and longer. From a matter of hours and days, 
the production of new individuals becomes a matter of 
weeks and months and even years. Furthermore, the 
longer and more complicated the process, the fewer the 
individuals that can be produced by a single parent, and 
the more important the individual offspring. 

At the same time, ^ larger and larger part of the 
individual offspring's growth takes place in separation 
from the mother, in direct touch with the environment. 
This means that a new factor is introduced into the 
individuars development. Heretofore, the individual 
was simply the thing that the particular combination of 
ancestral traits made him. Now what he is depends 
upon these ancestral traits plus the influence brought 
to bear upon the v/ay these traits develop. This in- 
fluence, however, does not affect the reproductive cells 
from which the new offspring emerge, so the new offspring 
have a chance to develop as their particular environ- 
ment may. later determine. It is clear that the individual 
who has the largest number of possibiUties because of 
his long and varied ancestry, whose structure is most 
comphcated and slowest to develop, will be most influ- 
enced by the environment with which he is surrounded 
after separation from the parent. 

This is the significance of human infancy. It gives 
the individual a chance to emerge from the common stock 
and be an individual. 



140 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Human infancy is extended over many years. Com- 
pare the length of time required to make a dog self- 
sufficient with the time required to make a child seK- 
sufficient. Physical maturity is not reached till from 
eighteen to twenty-four years. Intellectual maturity 
is equally long in developing. Economic infancy varies 
from fourteen to thirty, and political maturity is set at 
twenty-one. And this extended period of dependence 
is made significant also because of the complexity of 
the child's structure as compared with the dog's. The 
child is not tied down to a few types of action. He is 
equipped to behave in a vastly larger variety of ways, 
and these various ways of acting can be combined in 
an infinite variety of new ways according to the dic- 
tates of experience. How few tricks one can teach a 
dog! That is all he can learn. But we have not yet 
reached the limit of man's capacity to learn, that is, to 
change his ancestral equipment into something different 
from what this ancestry alone could have produced. 

Recapitulation. We have been saying that the 
stream of life passes down unbroken from one generation 
to the next, accumulating new structures that give 
advantage to the individuals, and accumulating pos- 
sibilities of constantly new types through the combina- 
tion of all sorts of old types. Obviously the changing 
structures will parallel a change in the physical habitat. 
As outside situations change, structures will be conserved 
which maintain life in the changing situations. It is 
also true that this conserving process passes on into new 
environments the structures developed previously and 
suited to previous environments. These lingering struc- 
tures, unless useful, tend to dwindle away and disappear. 
Some of them are hindrances, such as toes to animals 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 141 

walking on the ground, and wisdom teeth to animals 
that eat cooked food. But the conserving tendency 
is strong, and what once functioned in maintaining Ufe 
is apt to leave vestiges in all new individuals. Each 
individual thus, in a rough way, repeats in its develop- 
ment the process through which animal Ufe has passed. 
Resemblances to early forms of life, such as fish, can be 
detected in the human foetus, and of course the same 
traits that made primitive man a successful hunter and 
warrior appear in children and men and women. They are 
present, many of them, in many other species besides man. 

It is a mistake, however, to suppose, as some do, that 
this repetition of ancestral Ufe in the individual is any- 
thing more than a way of growing. The individual 
has to grow somehow, and at many points, as would be 
expected, his growth parallels that of the race as a whole. 
At other points, it obviously does not. It is impossible 
to draw any conclusions concerning the way the indi- 
vidual grows from a study of the way the race has 
developed, and any conclusions concerning race develop- 
ment based merely upon a study of individual develop- 
ment would be equally unreUable. There is no necessary 
organic relation between the two. Comparisons are 
simply analogies, not laws. To hold, therefore, that the 
individual must necessarily be a fish, a monkey and a 
savage before he can be a human being of the twentieth 
century is absurd mythology. He has to be a child 
before he can be a man, but he is a man-child, not a 
frog-child. And the only way to find out how he grows 
from a child into a man is to watch him grow. 

What is Inherited. What is it that is passed on 
from generation to generation, w^hich forms the raw 
material that meets the environment and is changed by 



142 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

it into human as distinct from animal nature? Briefly 
it is this: Structures or organs, and organic functions. 
The various organs are so built as to possess definite 
functions within the organism. The organism as a v/hole 
has definite functions in relation to its own and other 
species, and so with reference to life as a whole. In 
complex animals these functions are performed by means 
of speciahzed organs which are all organized together 
into a system which acts in an organized way. This 
organized action is made possible by a central nervous 
system, a set of organs (senses) which receive and trans- 
mit stimuli from without and from within the organism 
to the central system, and a set of organs (muscles) 
which move the whole body or parts of it so as to do the 
thing in the situation which we have described as the 
function of the organism as a whole. That from which 
stimuli come to the sense organs is called the situation, 
and what the organism as a whole does is called the 
response. The particular neural connections in the 
central system which determine that this or that response 
shall be made in any situation are many of them in- 
herited. When the connection is unalterable, when the 
response is invariably the same and is not controlled 
at will, the response is called a reflex. Sneezing, wink- 
ing at an approaching object, are examples. When the 
connection is inherited, but is not so clear-cut or un- 
alterable, it is called an instinct. Defending oneself 
or others from attack, running away, and eating are 
examples. Still more general tendencies to behavior, 
representing complex connections or at least possibilities 
of connections in the central system, are called capacities, 
such as the capacity to paint pictures or to learn new 
ways of doing things. 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 143 

These responses are the slow accumulation of the 
adjustments achieved by our ancestors. It is entirely- 
conceivable that we could make a complete list of every 
possible original response to every situation. Such a 
task is complicated by the fact that inherited responses 
are so soon modified. The unmodified responses would 
constitute the original nature or raw material out of 
which the complex unity of individual life is built. The 
unmodified connections and tendencies and capacities 
are all that ^' nature '^ provides. The rest is the product 
of experience in a world of things and men. 

It is important that those who are to control the child^s 
education should know what the original equipment of 
the children is and how it is changed into the equipment 
needed for modern life. The process of learning, or of 
changing original tendencies, will be the problem of the 
next chapter. The remainder of this discussion will be 
devoted to calling attention to some of the more impor- 
tant ways of behavior which we can count upon as present 
in all children. 

Original Tendencies. The most complete analysis 
that has been made of this inherited equipment is found 
in E. L. Thorndike's Original Nature of Man} What 
follows depends upon his researches. 

A brief list will put us in touch with the sort of re- 
sponses a child makes in more or less complete form 
without being taught. First there are the large body 
movements, placing the body in position or moving it 
from one place to another: sitting up, lying down, 
standing, walking, running. Then there are movements 
of the body itself such as kicking, scratching, breathing, 
laughing, crying, making noises, reaching; and when 

^ Educational Psychology, Vol. 1. 



144 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

objects are grasped, they are pounded, shaken, shoved, 
and explored with eyes and fingers, or put in the mouth, 
or eaten, or concealed, or collected with other Hke 
objects. Moving the body and parts of the body comes 
as the response to certain situations in which the in- 
dividual is placed, and such movements are made in 
complex combinations which can best be described as 
food getting, which includes hunting or chasing, capturing, 
tearing, eating; shelter getting, which includes running 
to cover, hiding, crouching, lying still, burrowing, 
building; defense, which includes attacking, running 
away, warding off missiles, and a host of responses 
usually called fighting or fear; and sex behavior, which 
is not prominent before adolescence. 

In addition there are other responses included under 
such general heads as play, a complicated response, dis- 
cussed in another chapter; a set of responses to persons, 
called social responses, such as following the crowd, 
rivalry, imitation; and certain general tendencies, such 
as the tendency to change the original responses and to 
develop skill not present in original nature, the tendency 
to pick a situation to pieces, and to respond to certain 
aspects of it; the tendency to get sensations and to be 
satisfied with mental control of sensations (frequently 
called curiosity, constructiveness and destructiveness, 
but probably not thus distinguished in original nature) ; 
the tendency to be satisfied when an instinctive response 
is successful and annoyed when it is not, or to be satisfied 
by certain sensations or conditions and annoyed by 
others. 

Satisfiers and Annoyers. These satisfiers and an- 
noyers are so important as guides of actions and as 
sources of desires and values that we shall have to look 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 145 

more closely at them. In general it may be said that 
any act which brings satisfaction tends to be repeated, 
and any act which is annoying tends to be discontinued 
or avoided. It is satisfying to do what the organism is 
ready to do, and it is annoying to be kept from doing 
what the organism is ready to do or to be forced to do 
what the organism is not ready to do. For a dog to be 
kept chained when he wants to chase a cat is annoying, 
and he won't let himself be chained if he can help it. 
But to chase a cat is a great satisfaction — unless he 
gets scratched, in which case he may be less precipitate. 
Since satisfying and annoying consequences are so 
influential in the formation of habits or permanent 
tendencies, it is important to know what sort of things 
independently satisfy and annoy. Thorndike names 
the following: pain, ^^ bitter tastes, the sight, touch and 
smell of entrails, excrement and putrid flesh, touching 
slimy things, depression as in fear, grief, the absence of 
human beings, their disapproving behavior, and very 
intense sensory stimuh of all sorts.'' The chief inde- 
pendent satisfiers are ^^ sweet, meaty, fruity, and nutty 
tastes, glitter, color and motion in objects seen, being 
rocked, swung and carried (in childhood), rhythm in 
percepts and movements, elation; the presence of human 
beings, their manifestations of satisfaction and their 
instinctive approving behavior." '' Other things being 
equal, to have sensations, to initiate movements and to 
make things happen are satisfying. . . . Tendencies to 
general mental activity and general physical activity 
(though they are not as a matter of fact absolutely 
general) when given exercise satisfy, and when denied 
exercise annoy. The conduction units involved in 
many situation-response series also in due time ^ crave 



146 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

exercise ' — that is, become ^ ready to act ' — so that 
imaging or thinking may become as true a want as food 
when hmigry, or capture after a chase/' 

'^ On the whole it seems best to assume, subject to 
further knowledge, the truth of this hypothesis that 
any state of affairs is originally satisfying which lets a 
conduction unit that is ready to conduct do so, and that 
any state of affairs is originally annoying which forces 
an unready conduction unit to conduct or restrains from 
conducting one that is in readiness/' ^ 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 

The following references wiU be found useful if the reader desires 
to pursue further the study of original nature. In reading these 
chapters, these problems may well be kept in mind : 

In what respects is a man's destiny predetermined by his heredity? 

What social values have resulted from the fact of human infancy? 

George A. Coe, A Social Theory of Religious Education^ Chap- 
ter X. 

E. L. Thorndike, Education, Chapter IV. 

John Fiske, The Meaning of Infancy. 

1 Thorndike, op. cit., p. 132. 



CHAPTER X 

OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT {Continued) 
Nature's Provision for Social Living 

The Organization of Tendencies. All these ten- 
dencies we have been describing, when added together, 
do not make human nature as it is. The first responses 
are determined merely by the inherited mechanism, but 
this mechanism is at once changed by the response and 
its effect, so that the next time the same situation recurs, 
the response that is made then will be made by the 
changed mechanism. The original tendencies are mod- 
ified by experience, are overlaid by habits, are never 
'^ pure,'' as we see them. Yet it is on them that w^e 
build when we teach habits of any kind. 

The specific responses we mentioned are important or 
unimportant according to our interest, or the interest 
of the individual or the species. They do not exist in 
the body in classifications: ^^ self -preserving," ^^ social," 
^^ altruistic," and so on. They exist piecemeal. They 
are the deposits of generations of selective adjustment. 
Some, such as hunting, are inappropriate to modern 
ways of life, though at one time they served to give an 
advantage to the species in its effort to keep alive. They 
have accumulated in a more or less haphazard way. 
They are tools, these instincts, just as muscles and bones 
are tools. Muscles and bones without the mechanism 
and the tendency to movement in the presence of certain 
stimuli, would be as useless as the paralyzed limbs of the 
victim of poliomyelitis. The specific tendencies to 

147. 



148 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

behavior are as much a part of the equipment we inherit 
as are our hands and feet. The one equipment we can 
see, the other is just as real, but is hidden away in the 
nerve cells of brain and spinal column. The microscope 
would reveal the route of the ^^ nerve current " as it 
proceeds from the organs of sense along the nerves to the 
sense centers of the brain, is distributed among co- 
ordinating centers, passes on to motor centers, releasing 
there the energy that is transmitted by other nerves to 
the muscles, which contract and relax according to the 
signals. It is an extremely complicated and wonderful 
process. The microscope will help us see how it takes 
place, but it will not show why it takes place. This 
can be found out only by reference to the interest that 
the act serves, and this interest lies beyond the act and 
the mechanism which makes the act possible. The 
explanation of the chasing, capturing, tearing and de- 
vouring lies not in this series of acts, but in the situation 
in which these acts take place — a large animal hungry, 
a small animal running across the large animal's field of 
vision. The relation of the small animal to the large 
is an organic one. The large animal has evolved in a 
world in which small animals constitute food. Hence 
the equipment or mechanism by which that food is 
secured. 

Almost the same mechanism will be used when the 
small animal is forced to defend itself against the large 
animal. It runs, it turns and fights, it may even defeat 
the enemy and chase it away. But here the reason for 
the use of the equipment is different. Or an animal may 
pursue its prospective mate, using the same equipment 
as is used in chasing the small animal. Again the ex- 
planation of the act is different. In the one case the 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 149 

organism is ^' set '^ to eat, in the second, to defend itself, 
in the third, to mate. These organic sets correspond 
to what prove to be necessary functions, or behavior 
leading to necessary results, if the individual and the 
species are to be kept alive. That is, those species not 
getting sufficient food or offspring have ceased to exist. 
Those that have persisted, do, therefore, have mecha- 
nisms for the performance of these fundamental functions, 
which for convenience we may call biological functions: 
nutrition, defence, shelter and reproduction. Those 
responses have survived and are transmitted as instincts 
which have enabled the individual members of the species 
to perform these functions. 

Social Instincts. Our original responses to persons 
are largely for the performance of these functions. The 
parental instinct^ or helping, fondling, petting, relieving, 
protecting offspring, or anything small or in need; 
preferring the crowd, or gregariousnesSj an essential pro- 
tection against common enemies; cooperation in hunt- 
ing; all these are related to defense, food getting and 
reproduction in their origin. 

There are many other responses, however, than those 
immediately concerned with the preservation of life 
by nutrition or fighting that have accumulated in the 
course of evolution as by-products or secondarily neces- 
sary acts. It is original, for example, for a child to 
give attention to human beings, to turn the head so 
that another's face will be kept in view. It is also 
instinctive to try to gain the mastery over another 
individual, or to submit to another who is recognized as 
superior. It is characteristic of human nature to be 
pleased with another's approval and to be annoyed at 
another's disapproval, and to approve or disapprove of 



150 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

others' actions by some gesture or expression. Shyness 
or hesitant action in the presence of strangers or num- 
bers; display of body or of achievements; rivalry, or 
increased vigor of action in the presence of another who 
is engaged in the same act, such as pursuing an object; 
envy, or the desire to displace another who is enjoying 
a desired privilege, such as the mother's lap; teasing, 
bullying, which is a sort of combination of mastery, 
hunting, scornful behavior, and curiosity as to results; 
greed or acquisitiveness; and imitation or satisfaction 
in doing as others do; all these are social responses that 
have grown up as the result of age-long associations 
among individuals of the same species. Some are de- 
sirable tendencies. Some are undesirable. The child 
is not responsible for having either the '^ good '' or 
^^ bad '' tendencies. He is not good or bad because he 
is gentle to his younger sister or ^^ cruel " to the cap- 
tured fly. He is what nature made him. Nature 
turns him over to society to do what it likes with him. 
Society can make the original nature into something 
good, or it can let it grow up into something which will 
be disowned and outlawed by the very forces that pro- 
duced it. In the last analysis, it is the mature members 
of society who are responsible for the sins of the next 
generation. The sins of the fathers are visited upon 
the children, but so are their virtues. 

Helps and Hindrances. Certain of the social 
responses are more important than others in religious 
education, either because they afford the foundation 
on which characteristically Christian behavior is built 
or because they are the basis of typical faults that have 
to be overcome. 
. First among the constructive instincts is the parental. 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 151 

or the tendency to respond by fondling, petting, caring 
for persons or objects which are small, cute or conceived 
to be in need. This tendency, which is the exact oppo- 
site of the grabbing and teasing responses, is one of the 
earliest to appear and one of the strongest. Mother- 
love, utterly forgetful of self, leads to the highest reaches 
of service and sacrifice. It is the gentle prompting that 
leads the child to care tenderly for dolls and dogs and 
tramps. It is the only basis there is for fihal affection, 
which is nothing more than the child's own parental 
instinct stimulated by the parents' need, whether real 
or imagined. 

Like most instincts, parental responsiveness is an 
impulse or general tendency rather than a complete 
set of acts for every possible situation. The instinct 
is blind. The hen will sit on glass eggs as dutifully as 
on her own. Mothers will feed their babies on coffee 
as fondly as on milk, and quiet them with candy from 
the same impulses. No instinct uninformed is com- 
petent to deal with modern complex social situations. 
On the great constructive instincts must be built intelh- 
gent habits which will provide adapted channels through 
which the underlying forces of human life can flow in 
regulated and useful streams rather than in the chaotic 
and destructive torrents of unschooled passion and 
impulse. 

Probablj^ the next most significant social response 
is the sensitiveness to approval and disapproval by others 
coupled with the instinctive approval or disapproval 
of others. Here we have the basis in original nature of 
much that is characteristically human. Public opinion 
becomes an educational force, or, as we say, a moral 
force, because people are sensitive to the opinion of 



152 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

others. Coupled with the tendency to find satisfaction 
in doing as others do, this conforming force becomes a 
tremendous civiUzing power. Custom and conscience 
find here their roots. Standards of action are social 
products, and God is the judge of conduct, the personified 
conscience, the embodiment of the ideal, who approves 
and disapproves, and whose judgments are a great deep. 

It is easy to see how greed, bullying, the tendency to 
display, fighting propensities, envy and sex interests 
get children and youth into difficulties. But to be 
forewarned is to be forearmed, and our educational 
procedure must make provision for bringing all anti- 
social tendencies under control. 

The Roots of Religion. In none of the lists of the 
specific tendencies of original nature will we find a 
religious instinct, such as the instinct to fight an attack- 
ing animal or to eat when hungry. Yet we are in the 
habit of saying that all men are religious. It is not a 
man's acts, however, that make him religious, such as 
saying prayers, kneeling, going to church, doing Red 
Cross work. It is rather a man's dissatisfaction with 
his acts, in contrast with his imagination of what those 
acts might be and might accomplish, and his effort to 
change his acts so that they will conform to this ideal or 
carry out this purpose. This tendency to idealize and 
organize life is part of our original equipment. But it is 
not a separate and specific response to a specific situa- 
tion. It is rather one's total response to the total situa- 
tion made possible by the organizing power of the mind, 
which sees the whole and which controls and organizes 
its own relation to the whole. 

We are interested in the religious life of children. We 
are interested, therefore, in the use the mind makes of 



OUR INHERITED EQUIPMENT 153 

the physical equipment that has been caught out of the 
stream of hfe into the Uttle whirHng eddy we call the 
individual. 

The characteristic activity of mind is to choose; the 
characteristic of religion is to choose the ideal, the not- 
yet-reahzed. The basis of choice is experience. The 
thing ideaUzed is an experience. Experience is de- 
termined by the tendencies of human nature operating 
in the association of individuals. In human beings, 
experience is originally and always social. The fact 
of human association puts a premium on what we called 
the '^ social responses. '^ Other things being equal, the 
individual that is responsive to other persons but weak 
in his responsiveness to things and animals will get along 
better than an individual, who, though strong in his 
responsiveness to things and animals, is weak in his 
responsiveness to human beings. Value is set on social 
relations, and it is these social experiences that are 
idealized and made the basis of organizing purposes. 
Mind extends the scope and range of action both in 
space and time, and religion is mind at work upon the 
problem of securing a permanent, universal, unified, 
ideal social experience, an ideal society. 

Our religious life grows out of and makes use of our 
original capacities. But something is going to be 
ideaUzed and made dominant in life. As teachers, let 
us see to it that this something is big and positive and 
constructive. This biggest thing in our human equip- 
ment we shall probably find to be the parental instinct. 
Let us build on this, make it grow and reach outward and 
upward till kindness and justice and love shall become 
the all-inclusive force in the divine human society of 
which we are a part. 



154 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 

1. What part should Eugenics play in a program of social recon- 
struction? 

2. What effect will the entrance of women into political and in- , 
dustrial life have upon 

a. Human institutions such as the home? 

b. Human progress as determined by institutions such as the 

home? 

3. What do you think should be done with mental defectives? 

4. What relation has the size of a family to the significance of 
human infancy? 

5. How are the problems discussed in this chapter related to the 
problems of economic readjustment such as the minimum wage, 
child-labor laws, working conditions, compensation, insurance, 
widows' pensions, industrial democracy? 



CHAPTER XI 

MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 

Factors in the Educational Process 

Nature's Provision for Education. Among the 
tendencies that man inherits is the tendency of all his 
tendencies to cooperate in securing greater and more 
permanent satisfactions. Original equipment provides 
for changing itself in the direction indicated by satisfac- 
tions that come from the operation of this equipment 
in a human environment. What this human environ- 
ment does, therefore, to promote this or that individual 
satisfaction in the younger members of the group is of 
supreme importance. It is out of these satisfactions 
that the individual's values come, and consequently 
his ideals and motives. 

Original nature thus provides for its own development, 
for its own evolution. When human nature becomes 
conscious of the fact that it can influence itself, and 
change itself in this or that direction, and provides the 
means for making this change, we have what we call 
education, or '^ conscious evolution,^' to use Davidson's 
phrase. On the one side we have what the child is 
born with, his inherited tendencies and capacities, the 
push of the race, welling up within him, urging him on 
to do something, to reach out and grasp and conquer 
the new world. These tendencies and capacities form 
the raw material of growth and education in religion 
just as in everything else. But no single racial push or 

155 



156 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

combination of impulses makes a man reKgious. There 
is, on the other side, the self-conscious factor, the pur- 
poses and ideals and ideas of action. This factor is 
developed through experience. The individual, to be 
sure, has a tendency to be conscious, to have ideas and 
ideals, else he would have none; but what these ideas and 
ideals are depends not upon his physical heredity, but 
upon his experience among men. There is a social 
as well as a physical heritage. There is a racial pull 
as well as a racial push. Just as the achieved instincts 
and tendencies, physically transmitted, are the raw 
material of impulses, so the achieved culture of the race, 
transmitted by human fellowship, is the raw material 
of the individuaFs ideas and ideals. Education is a 
way of controlling and molding original nature by the 
ideals of the race, so that the vital elements of civiliza- 
tion are transmitted to each succeeding generation. 

We have, then, these two factors, the child with his 
physical heritage and society with its cultural heritage. 
The child grows by bringing to this social environment 
his original equipment, which works upon and absorbs 
and contributes to this racial culture. Apart from life 
in the institutions of society, the home, the school, the 
state, the church, and industry, there is no individual 
life and growth. The individuals of each generation 
emerge from the racial stock and from the social milieu 
into which they are born. They may emerge only partly 
and reproduce faithfully the life of their fathers, becom- 
ing conventional, provincial replicas of a limited, hide- 
bound caste or class or community. They may emerge 
completely, building on the world's experience, and 
becoming free citizens of the world, and prophets of a 
new social order. 



ii 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 157 

The Value of Infancy. The great difference be- 
tween men and animals lies in just this capacity to be- 
come superior to inherited equipment, to change old 
ways of doing things and make new ones. As was sug- 
gested in the preceding chapter, it takes a long time to 
make these changes, much longer than to make a bee or 
a butterfly or a bird. The human being gets its chance 
in its long infancy, and its chance is measured by the 
education which is provided for it. Were the infant 
not physically helpless, it is hard to see how it would 
have secured the training necessary to give it control of 
the experience of the race. Even the wolf puppy asso- 
ciates with its parents long enough to learn to do as 
they do, and so to conserve such adjustments as have 
not been built into the inherited mechanism. The 
parents are the first teachers, because they are the care- 
takers. 

The physical helplessness of children thus automati- 
cally makes available a personal environment which is 
fairly continuous and sympathetic and helpful. The 
effect of this on original equipment is of the utmost 
importance, for it tends to give social direction to 
original tendencies, to cultivate the parental or tender 
reactions to the exclusion of the coarser and more brutish. 
Family life at its best is the norm and source of all social 
education and organization and the type of ideal social 
relations. And here we find also, in brotherhood and 
fatherhood and sonship, the ground-work of the religion 
of Jesus. 

The Contribution of Culture. It is clear, then, 
that human nature is provided by heredity with the 
tendency and the mechanism for changing itself into 
something nearer to its hearths desire; that the nature of 



158 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

the changes that take place depends upon the environ- 
mental influences brought to bear upon the individual 
during his long infancy; and that these determining 
influences, when consciously controlled by society, are 
called '^ education/' Just what does education do? . 
How does it work? How is original nature changed? 
There are four specific contributions made by racial 
culture to the individual, which society makes more or 
less specific according to the degree to which education 
is organized: habits and skills; information and ideas; 
desires, ideals, and motives; and attitudes. These are 
necessary in controlUng social relations as well as in the 
use of things. We do not want occasional and fortuitous 
successes in morality. We want people to do and say 
the right thing at the right time every time. We all 
like children when they are good. The high levels of 
spiritual life of which all children are capable should 
somehow be made permanent. This can be done only 
by developing knowledge of what to do and skill in the 
doing. It is not enough to know in a general way that 
one should help his neighbor. The tactless but well- 
intentioned person who intrudes and says the wrong 
thing we all know. Courtesy is more than an ideal. 
It is a way of doing things. Prayer is something that 
requires skill in the doing. 

So we need not only ideals and motives but the moral 
machinery for carrying them out. 

Another type of moral machinery is acquaintance l| 
with the social institutions by which Christian ideals 
are being expressed in the life of society: the church, 
the machinery of legislation, local, state and national; 
societies for the improvement of conditions, such as the 
S. P. C. A., the National Child Labor Committee, 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 159 

mission boards, charity organization societies, town 
improvement societies. All these must be known not 
only by hearsay but through membership and coopera- 
tion. So only can the children be equipped for religious 
living. A small girl overheard her mother turn away a 
tramp from the door, explaining that she had no money 
for him. ^^ Oh, mother, '' cried the little girl, ^' don't 
send him away. See, I have some money for him.'' 
And she brought out her small savings to be handed to 
the tramp. She had not been provided with the moral 
machinery for carrying out her good purpose. She did 
not know that there was a cooperative association in 
the city for ministering to the needs of indigent strangers, 
through which she could work much more effectively 
than as an individual with a few pennies to give away. 
And, lacking this information and this contact with 
society, the girl was prevented from being as rehgious 
as she was capable of being. 

Let us take up these four factors involved in making 
over human nature — action, thinking and worship, 
somewhat briefly, and motives more extensively in the 
next chapter. 

1. Action 

Our chief work as teachers of religion is to develop 
wholesome rehgious activity. As a type of this sort of 
work, take the Boy Scouts or the Camp Fire Girls. 
Their peculiar contribution is that they represent rehg- 
ion at work in the world instead of rehgion a spectator 
of the world. Each class has, first of all, to be an active 
rehgious group, hving and working together for the 
common good. We used to think of the class as a group 
of docile goody-goodies who listened reverently to the 



160 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

teacher while she discoursed on spiritual themes and 
told them to be good. But we have recovered from 
that. We realize now that the business of the church 
school is to help make the community Christian by 
establishing within itself a Christian community. If 
the churches are to contribute to the establishment of a 
Christian democracy, they will have to begin at home by 
making their own government, their own methods and 
their own educational work democratic. 

Whatever phases of religious life we emphasize in 
class, it is essential to remember that the universal 
method of learning is in and through activity, both 
physical and mental, and that the younger the pupils 
are the more closely must learning be associated with 
muscular activity at the moment of learning. 

This does not mean that a pupil should never sit still 
and listen. The trouble is that this sitting still and 
listening has been the sum and substance of rehgion to 
most people. Relaxation is all right in the right place. 
But the essential ideals of rehgion have so long been 
associated with passivity and relaxation that the Chris- 
tian religion finds insufficient means of expressing it- 
self, and breaks out in forms of action that have been 
developed for other purposes, as war, for example. Re- 
hgion is frequently anemic because people are expected 
to be passive in the presence of religious ideals, instead 
of actively engaged in realizing these ideals in construc- 
tive social endeavor. We may not learn war, nowa- 
days, but we turn to war as a means to our ends because 
we have not thoroughly learned peace. 

It is commonly held that there must be some stimulus, 
whether arising within the body or without, for every 
act the child does. It is this belief which leads to the 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 161 

naming of these acts ^^ responses '' and to the method of 
interpreting all acts in terms of the situations in which 
they arise. One does not fear in general; he fears 
something. The only way to affect a child's acts is to 
do something that will serve as a stimulus capable of 
eUciting a response. We cannot act directly upon the 
child's motor centers. We can act only on his environ- 
ment. Can we expect a child to become habitually 
loving, helpful and cheerful if there is nothing in his 
environment to which love, helpfulness and good cheer 
are the child's natural reactions? How can we expect a 
child to become Christian unless we provide him with a 
Christian environment? We may find ourselves as 
teachers frequently obHged to be a Christian community 
for the child, and to provide in our own persons a con- 
stant source of stimulation for the sort of action we desire 
to have become habitual in those whom we teach. 

Religious Action. The church school has been 
peculiarly subject to the notion of learning without 
doing on account of its cultural heritage. It has a 
double tradition of passivity behind it, one educational 
and one religious, so that it is peculiarly hard for it to 
think of religious education in terms of growth through 
activity. When it does get a little activity into its 
machinery it is added on without being built into the 
structure of the system. We have added certain forms 
of handwork to the curriculum, for example, but the 
curriculum itself has remained for the most part un- 
changed. 

We should probably agree that among reHgious acts 
would be included, objectively considered, praying, 
helping one another, and promoting justice and good 
fellowship. How then are we to promote skill in these 



162 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

types of action? We want a child to develop religious 
habits. Very well, what stimuli are we providing to 
call forth from him religious responses? What influences 
do we surround him with? Let us see. 

If he is a Primary child, he comes to the church school, 
sings a few pretty songs in a room that is supposed to 
be bright and cheery. Teacher tells him a nice story. 
He pastes a picture in a book, then sings a good-bye 
song and goes home. Sometimes he sings a song to 
welcome a new pupil or to recognize a birthday. If it is 
his own it costs him six to eight cents — but never mind : 
those two songs constitute the essentially religious 
part of that program. Next Sunday he does it over 
again. Does this recurring situation tend to call forth 
religious acts and fix them in useful habits? We need 
stories and lessons, of course, but let us not overestimate 
their effect. A dream world, peopled with ^fairies and 
filled with castles and cool woods, is all very well for a 
child of fortune, but it is a poor substitute for a good 
mother or a square meal or a bit of green grass or a w^arm 
garment. We may tell the children stories of love and 
friendship and helpfulness for an hour on Sunday, but 
if they get nothing but blows and toil and loneliness all 
the week, what is the use? Forgetfulness? Yes, but 
it is not so much our stories that they need as it is 
just ourselves, and the type of life for which we as 
Christians are supposed to stand. 

In Schools of Tomorrow there is a description of how a 
single interest was pursued by a class of day-school 
children throughout the year. 

^^ In the fifth grade, class activities were centered around a bunga- 
low that the children were making. The boys in the class made the 
bungalow in their manual training hours. But before they started 



J 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 163 

it every pupil had drawn a plan to scale of the house, and worked 
out, in their arithmetic period, the amount and cost of the lumber 
they would need, both for their own play bungalow and for a full 
sized one; they had done a large number of problems taken from the 
measurements of the house, such as finding the floor and wall areas 
and air space of each room, etc. The children very soon invented 
a family for their house and decided they would have them live on a 
farm. The arithmetic work was then based on the whole farm. 
First, this was laid out for planting, plans were drawn to scale and 
from information the children themselves gathered they made their 
own problems, basing them on their play farm: such as the size of 
the corn field, how many bushels of seeds would be needed to plant 
it; how big a crop they could expect, and how much profit. The 
children showed great interest and ingenuity in inventing problems 
containing the particular arithmetical process they were learning 
and which still would fit their farm. They built fences, cement 
sidewalks, a brick wall, did the marketing for the family, sold the 
butter, milk and eggs, and took out fire insurance. When they were 
papering the house, the number of area problems connected with 
buying, cutting, and fitting the paper were enough to give them all 
the necessary drill in measurement of areas. 

'' English work centered in much the same way around the build- 
ing of the bungalow and the life of its inhabitants. The spelling 
lessons came from the words they were using in connection with the 
building, etc. The plans for the completed bungalow, a descrip- 
tion of the house and the furnishings, or the life of the family that 
dwelt in it, furnished inexhaustible material for compositions and 
writing lessons. Criticism of these compositions as they were read 
aloud to the class by their authors became work in rhetoric; even 
the grammar work became more interesting because the sentences 
vrere about the farm. 

" Art lessons were also drawn from the work the children were 
actually doing in building and furnishing the house. The pupils 
were very anxious that their house should be beautiful, so the color 
scheme for both the inside and outside furnished a number of 
problems in coloring and arrangement. Later they found large op- 
portunities for design, in making wall-paper for the house, choosing 
and then decorating curtains and upholstery. Each pupil made 
his own design, and then the whole class decided which one they 



164 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

wanted to use. The pupils also designed and made clay tiles for 
the bathroom floor and wall, and planned and laid out a flower 
garden. The girls designed and made clothes for the doll inmates of 
the house. The whole class enjoyed their drawing lessons im- 
mensely because they drew each other posing as different members 
of the family in their different occupations on the farm. The work 
of this grade in expression consisted principally in dramatizations 
of the Hfe on the farm which the children worked out for themselves. 
Not only were the children '' learning by doing " in the sense that 
nearly all the school work centered around activities which had 
intrinsic meaning and value to the pupils, but most of the initiative 
for the work came from the children themselves. They made their 
own number problems; suggested the next step in the work on the 
house; criticized each other's compositions, and worked out their 
own dramatizations.'' ^ 

Have we anything equivalent to this in religious educa- 
tion? One near approach to it is the practise followed 
in some of the older classes in the Union School of Relig- 
ion. It has become the custom to search the neighbor- 
hood for opportunities of service, utilizing the city in- 
stitutions as far as possible. The Charity Organization 
Society is asked for the names of families who need help. 
The class picks out one that appeals to it and assumes 
certain responsibilities toward it for the winter months, 
such as supplying food and clothing, rent, work for the 
boys, visiting the family regularly and becoming as 
friendly as possible with the members. One class took 
the mother and children on a picnic and, while they 
were gone, a committee of the class got a big lunch ready 
for them to eat when they returned. Although the girls 
had worked hard to get it and were hungry, they refused 
to eat any of the lunch, but waited on Mrs. H. and the 
children and left all that they did not eat, refusing to 

1 John and Evelyn Dewey, Schools of Tomorrow^ pp. 74-77. Published by E. P. 
Button & Co. 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 165 

take anything. But this family served as the center of 
social interest all winter long, and out of the experi- 
ences that came to the girls in being neighbors to them 
came many discussions of social problems that would 
have been abstract and uninteresting if taken up simply 
as a lesson to be studied. 

This is typical of what we must do. We must make 
the life of the class one with the hfe of the community, 
establish areas of cooperation, make this our chief work, 
building our instruction upon the pupils^ immediate 
experience of social problems. 

Furthermore, enterprises involving the whole group 
afford opportunities for training in good fellowship. 
Children must learn to get along together not by sitting 
still together under the thumb of the teacher, but by 
doing things together — things which require leadership, 
loyal cooperation, sympathy, forbearance. These things 
cannot be learned by talking about them or by telling 
stories about them. They must be observed and prac- 
tised and made desirable and necessary for the promo- 
tion of a happy group life. 

Perhaps it is clear by now that what we need is not 
simply better text-books, not simply better handwork, 
not simply a few good deeds called social service, but 
rather an entire reorganization of the school as a group 
of clubs or societies engaged actively in cooperating with 
the individuals and institutions of the community for 
common social ends. 

Just as the farmer needed his children, so we need 
them, though for a higher purpose, and we must recognize 
them as an asset in our religious life. They have con- 
tributions to make to the welfare of the community, 
real contributions, and by making these contributions 



166 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

they will become conscious that they are a part of the 
community. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. If you have ever been a teacher, when did you learn most 
easily, quickly and thoroughly the thing you taught, while you 
were a student, or after you became a teacher? Why? What 
bearing has your answer on the problem of learning ideas of Christian 
behavior? 

2. Can you suggest ways in which the school work could be ar- 
ranged so that the children would have opportunity to learn to do 
the things a Christian should be able to do by doing them? Or 
should they do such things outside of school hours? What part has 
the home to play in Christian education? 

3. Suggest a project, analagous to the building of the bungalow, 
that might serve as a unifying class interest in religious education 
throughout a year. 

4. Read Wilham James' Chapter on Habit in his Talks to Teachers 
or in his Psychology j Briefer Course. How does what he says apply 
to rehgion? 

5. On the promotion of acts of service the following books will be 
found helpful: 

W. N. Hutchins, Graded Social Service for the Sunday School, 
R. E. Diffendorfer, Missionary Education in Home and School. 



CHAPTER XII 

MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE {Continued) 

2. Thinking 

The Functional View of Thinking. So far, we 
have been considering that phase of activity which can 
be seen. But there is another phase, quite as important, 
which cannot be seen, which we call thinking. Think- 
ing is simply action become conscious, or action which 
has a conscious element in it. It is awareness of what 
we are doing. It is not something other than the doing, 
for without the doing there would be no thinking in 
any true sense. The doing and the thinking constitute 
one process of adjustment between an individual and a 
situation. Thinking is intelUgent action, action which 
foresees its own consequences and which makes constant 
changes in its course because of these foreseen conse- 
quences. Thinking is '' being aUve,'' as Dewey says, 
moving forward, going somewhere, changing things in- 
stead of being changed by them. 

Unfortunately, the well-meant effort to bring activity 
into the day schools and church schools has usually 
neglected this aspect of activity, which gives it its 
essentially human quaUty. It was thought enough to 
have the children do things. Tasks were ^' assigned/' 
work '^ required. '^ They were told what to do, but 
not why they did it. This is of course abnormal. 

167 



168 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

It is not what the children will have to do when they 
are grown up and have to decide things for themselves. 
Such activity involves no thinking at all and has no 
particular relation to the formation of character even 
when the activity itself may be social service. It is 
external to the will of the child and in engaging in it he 
is a mere automaton. His motive is desire for approval, 
to please the teacher, fear of punishment or hope of 
reward in the shape of marks, pins, or prizes. 

IntelHgence in a child is not different from intelligence 
in an adult. It means having a purpose and trying to 
carry it out by organizing one's acts as means to that 
purpose as an end. It means that one must foresee 
what is Ukely to happen and choose the course of action 
that moves in the direction of the desired goal. Hence 
arise difficulties and problems which make study neces- 
sary, an investigation of all the facts that bear on the 
case, experiments in one direction or another, the re- 
making of one's plan of action, the achievement of one's 
end, and the achievement of an increment of wisdom. 
Growth in character involves growth in the capacity 
to think and that requires practise in thinking, which 
means practise in the adaptation of means to self -chosen 
ends. The value of the building of the bungalow, which 
was described above, is now seen more clearly. The 
children had something to do which was interesting in 
itself, a real job, not a make-believe one. It was just 
the thing children would do outside of school. It was 
their own life they were living, not another's. And 
in the course of construction they found real need for 
many facts of arithmetic and art and English which 
they now had a motive for learning. They could see 
their use, their relation to the ends they were pursuing. 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 169 

They simply had to know these things in order to ac- 
compHsh their growing purpose. 

The Place of Thinking in Religion. Without 
ntering upon the consideration of the technic of think- 
ag, which there is not space to discuss, let us suggest 
he place of thinking in religion. Character is not a 
hing. It is a process, a going on, a way of meeting 
life's situations. It might be called a tendency to grow 
v.dse, that is, to think, and to think always more ade- 
uately, foreseeing the consequences of action and choos- 
ig those hnes of action that will accomplish our purposes. 
But what about these purposes? Where do they come 
om and how do we decide which to follow? We have 
_,pposing purposes or desires leading us in opposite 
directions. The vacillating individual, who follows 
now one purpose, now another, lacks something of the 
stabihty we feel belongs to the highest type of character. 
His purposes are not harmonious. His life is not or- 
ganized. He has no supreme purpose controlling all 
the rest. He does not consider ultimate consequences, 
but thinks rather of the consequences of each isolated 
activity he may be engaged in, or thinks only of the 
consequences to himself. We all know the type of man, 
now happily growing scarcer, that in private life and 
church hfe is all that we could ask for in kindness, 
gentleness and generosity, but who in business or pro- 
fessional life follows the relentless policy of cut-throat 
competition, paying starvation wages, requiring long 
hours and employing children to do the work of adults. 
There is no doubt but that this successful man thinks. 
But he thinks only about means. The ends he is pursu- 
ing, or the consequences they entail, do not occupy his 
attention. The values he stands for in private life. 



170 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

good-will, kindness, fairness, he repudiates in public 
life. He is an unorganized or divided personality. 
He has failed to think about the ultimate consequences 
of his acts and to harmonize his life in accordance with 
some purpose which he has deUberately chosen to follow 
because he deems it to be the highest for him. 

When a man brings his purposes into his thinking, 
weighs carefully the relative value of possible ends of 
action and the probable consequences of action, and then, 
with his whole soul, follows that line of action which 
will most worthily accomplish what seems to him to 
be the best, then that man is religious. If the purpose 
he follows is the Christian purpose and if the means 
he employs conform to Christian standards, then he is 
Christian. 

An illustration may help to make clear the place 
thinking should occupy in our class work. 

The present typical method of teaching a lesson is to 
bring out some specific quality, such as generosity, that 
the hero or heroine displays, and to arouse enthusiasm 
for the possession of that quaUty. Beyond the fact 
that it is hard to get enthusiastic over the achievement 
of an abstract quality, it should be noted that what we 
are chiefly studying here is not character, but the use of 
the English language. We name a way of behaving 
and then presume that the name has some power over i{ 
the behavior. In analyzing qualities we get no further 
than names of ways of behaving. 

Now as we have seen, the very essence of intelligence 
is the foreseeing of consequences. Suppose, then, in- 
stead of emphasizing one or another of the many estima- 
ble qualities a hero possesses, we go at the thing more 
naturally. Let us ask what the hero does, why he does 



a 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 171 

it, and what effect it has on everybody concerned. 
What did Joseph do ? That is what the children are 
interested in. Why did he do it? What happened in 
consequence, to his father, brothers, and the Egyptians? 
Were those consequences desirable? Did they depend 
on his acting the way he did or would they have hap- 
pened anyway? Was it worth while for Joseph to have 
done what he did? 

And then, we must make the daily experiences and 
problems of the pupils the basis of our work. They 
must be taught to analyze their own problems: What 
situations do they meet that are Hke the situation Joseph 
was in? In what various w^ays can they meet those 
situations? What will be the probable effect of each 
way? Which is the best way? How can we actually 
get this way of acting put through? That is, let us 
make plans to carry out this specific purpose to get a 
specific effect or consequence; for example, to rehabiU- 
tate a poor family; that is what Joseph did! Then 
comes the discussion of success or failure. 

As far as possible there must be developed, as the basis 
of thought and planning, a class hfe, including the 
activity on Sunday and activity during the w^eek. The 
class must become conscious of what it is doing as a 
part of the community. The real social problems must 
come to the attention of the pupils in natural ways, by 
walks and visits and discussions of what others have 
seen and done. Whatever means the class can command 
must be used to solve or help solve these problems. 
Here is where the pupiPs money comes in. The class 
should be using this money to carry out its own purposes. 
They must find for themselves the occasions for spending 
it and they must decide for which of the many possible 



172 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

causes they will spend it. Otherwise, the giving is not 
a factor in character development. 

We cannot insist too strongly on the place of thinking 
in all the child does. Mere activity is stultifying. 
Mere discussing and planning is morally debihtating. 
Without intelKgent action, growth in character will be 
due to influences outside the church-school teaching. 



3. Worship 

Worship and Character. In our discussion of the 
place of thinking in religion, we have already pointed 
out that successful thinking is purposive thinking, and 
that stability of character implies, not simply the abihty 
to think out how to carry out miscellaneous purposes, 
but also the possession of a supreme purpose which 
controls and harmonizes life. Christian character im- 
pUes more than the performance of customary Christian 
practises; it implies also insight into the relation of 
these practises to the life of the world, or to God's will 
or kingdom, and the conscious attempt to organize life 
in harmony with this will or kingdom. 

This insight and consecration does not generally come 
by doing deeds even when these deeds are done skil- 
fully and thoughtfully. There is needed also reflection 
upon deeds and upon their relation to the will of God. 
This contemplative phase of experience, in which the 
individual will meets and recognizes the universal Will ' 
and seeks to become identified with it, we call worship. 
In such moments the details of instruction and of human 
relationships are brought into consciousness together 
with God himself, so that the light of his personahty 
is shed over the whole of life, and the inertia of society 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 173 

as we know it and live it is overcome by the momentum 
of this ideal society of which we become conscious in 
worship. Without this experience or its equivalent, 
no individual attains to the level of organization and 
power that is possible for him at his stage of develop- 
ment. During the early years of life, when fragmentary 
experiences are beginning to be understood, and when 
untrained impulses are first coming under the control 
of ideals and hard-won purposes, it is of fundamental 
importance that the organizing and stimulating function 
of worship should be recognized as an indispensable 
educational force. 

The Cultivation of Christian Attitudes through 
Worship. As has already been suggested, the pecuHar 
contribution worship makes to hfe is in the realm of 
feelings, attitudes, purposes. Religion has to do with 
the purposive organization of life. It is the process by 
which the mind is constantly reset, redirected, pointed, 
oriented, with reference to what is happening to it. 
Our hearts are set on many things. The absence of 
rehgion means that these many values are competing 
with one another for mastery. They are not cooperating 
with one another in an organized system with a com- 
mon, superior value at the top which is the desire to 
desire the best, whatever this may prove to be. In the 
Christian religion we feel that this best is the will of God. 
Hence we seek to know and do his will. 

Now in worship we are not so much concerned with 
the means by which our purposes shall be accomphshed 
as we are with the fundamental values in relation to 
which we form our purposes. We stop our business for 
the moment to consider what we are doing and why we 
are doing it. We give our attention to the values we 



174 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

imagine ourselves to be seeking, so that these may freshly 
take possession of us, and may cheer us on our way when 
we return to the daily routine. We cannot be con- 
stantly thinking of our ultimate purposes in every least 
act. When I sit at my desk I cannot give my thought 
constantly to the exact contribution my work is making 
to the progress of the kingdom of God. This , would 
make me seK-conscious and inhibit my thinking. And 
yet some such interpretation of my work I occasionally 
need so as to keep it going. This occasional falling 
back upon or reaching up to the values that I confidently 
believe to be present in my work is worship. Here 
I get my mind set toward the proper ends of life. I 
acquire attitudes which carry through my action and 
my thinking. I feel about things, rather than critically 
analyze things. I see things in wholes. I get perspec- 
tive, and vision, and motive; for in worship I reahze 
intensely myjself, my fellows, and God, and the meaning 
of this fellowship in our common human experience. 

In private worship we usually leave to chance the 
decision of what feelings are to be aroused. But public 
worship requires leadership, and wherever there is 
leadership there is control and guidance* Our prob- 
lem as leaders is to exercise this control inteUigently and 
to accomplish through worship the sort of results that 
are natural to worship and that contribute definitel}^ 
to Christian character. Some feelings are going to be 
aroused in real worship. We must see to it that these 
feelings are Christian. 

What are the feelings that characterize the Christian 
religion? For most of us, the all-inclusive Christian , 
attitude is love, the taking of another's interest as one's ] 
own, or in its largest sense, the will to work for the wel- 



MAKING OVER HUMAN NATURE 175 

fare of the world in the consciousness that in so doing 
one is making common cause with the purpose of God 
supremely manifested in Jesus. How love shall express 
itseK depends upon circumstances. But there are 
certain universal attitudes that make for the fulfilment 
of love in our ordinary human relations, and these atti- 
tudes we desire to have become habitual. By what- 
ever names we call them, they will include these five: 
gratitude, good-will, reverence, faith and loyalty. 
These are the attitudes that determine the direc- 
tion of our thought and action so that the details of 
experience move constantly toward the Christian pur- 
pose. Equipped with these fundamental mental '^sets '^ 
we are freed from the control of unchristian impulses 
and can devote ourselves fully to the w^orking out of 
the Christian purpose in human relationships, through 
our thinking and our action. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. WtiBit is the difference between a desire and an ideal? Where 
do ideals come from? What sort of ideals do children have? 

2. How do you find out what problems children actually face? 
How do you help children see what their problems reaUy are? 

3. Read F. M. McMurry, How to Study, Chapter III, and apply 
this method to your next church-school lesson, showing how you 
would help your pupils to learn how to study properly. 

4. From your own experience of worship, what do you regard as 
its value for you? What effect does worship have on you, at the 
moment of worship and afterguards? 

5. Outline your o^m church-school opening exercises and answer 
these questions : 

(1) Is there a spirit of worship? 

(2) What is the aim of the exercises? 

(3) Is there either instruction or training in worship during the 
exercises or at some other time? 



176 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

(4) What religious ideas are prominent in the hymns sung? 
Are these ideas characteristic of wholesome religious life in children? 

On thinking, see John Dewey, How We Think, and John and Eve- 
lyn Dewey, Schools of Tomorrow. 

On worship, see the author's Manitalfor Training in Worship. 



l 



CHAPTER XIII 

MOTIVES 

The Fourth Factor in the Educational Process 

In the fifth chapter of Matthew there is a defense of 
a reUgion of faith. In the second chapter of James 
there is a defense of a rehgion of works. ^ Jesus was not 
trying to behttle good acts. He was sick of seeing good 
acts turned out wholesale as the purchase price of per- 
sonal advantage. How many passages bear out this 
insistence upon purity of heart: the whited sepulcher, 
the cup clean outside, but dirty on the inside, '^ out 
of the heart come forth evil thoughts, murders, thefts, 
railings.'' A tree is known by its fruits, to be sure, but 
a thorn does not bear figs. The man is of more impor- 
tance than what he does, though what he does is in 
part an indicator of what he is. 

It is not simply what a man does, that counts in a 
world that is made up of human beings. Being some- 
body is more than doing something. The external, 
overt act is only part of the total spiritual fact which 
constitutes the unit of fellowship. How hollow is the 
friendship that is built up around conventional courte- 
sies, rendered without personal regard, but because of 
the demands of ^^ society.'' How futile is the charity 
of the rich proffered out of a full purse, from a passing 
sense of duty without fellow-feeling; or in mere good 
nature. How often the machinery of organized relief 

1 Matt. 5 : 8, 22. 28. James 1 : 27; 2 : 14-26. 

177 



178 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

crushes and maims the souls of those for whom it is 
manufacturing philanthropy. 

After all, relief is a poor blessing, justified in part 
when it is an incident of friendship, but a ghastly carica- 
ture of the Christian spirit when it is not likewise an 
incident in the Christian demand for justice between 
men, for the sake of men. a demand which should find 
expression not in more charity machinery, but in 
such social and political changes as will make charity 
increasingly unnecessary. 

What are Motives? We frequently say, '^ His mo- 
tives were mixed.'' Or we ask, ^^ What were his ulterior 
motives? '' We imply that a person often has more 
than one reason for doing things. We are in the habit 
of classifying these reasons as '^ selfish '' and ^^ un- 
selfish,'' or as " seK-regarding " and ^^ self-denying " 
or '^ other-regarding." What we mean is that there are 
two main inducements for any sort of action to which all 
motives can be reduced, namely, the thought of one's own 
advantage, and the thought of some one else's advantage. 

Are our motives thus capable of being classified and 
reduced? Or is this attempt to pigeonhole our motives 
artificial, an abstraction from real life? 

In our discussion of thinking, it was suggested that 
intelHgent action was action undertaken in the light of 
foreseen consequences. It is these foreseen consequences 
that are the true motives of one's action. When we act 
without foreseeing or expecting consequences, we act 
without motive, or blindly, like a machine. 

Motives as Foreseen Consequences. We are 
interested in many different kinds of consequonces, 
some more clearly defined than others. Frequently! 
we get interested in one consequence and forget about! 



MOTIVES 179 

or do not foresee other consequences which follow from 
the same act. We get to thinking about how good it 
would feel to go in bathing some hot day, and we forget 
that a cold dip right after dinner is fraught with danger. 
Or we go in in the morning, when we feel hot, and then 
cannot go in in the afternoon with all the rest, because 
the doctor says once a day is, enough. In each case, 
the immediate sensuous satisfaction was the conse- 
quence w^hich was effective in getting us to act ; in the 
first place, in spite of possible danger to health, and in the 
second place, in spite of the greater, but postponed, 
satisfaction of going in with the rest. 

Why was one consequence foreseen, rather than the 
other, or, if both w^ere foreseen, w^hy did we take one 
rather than the other? We know some people who 
would always consider the immediate satisfaction of the 
senses as of more consequence than health. Others 
would usually prefer the immediate pleasure to post- 
ponement for the sake of being sociable. W^hat is the 
difference between these individuals and those who 
would postpone immediate satisfaction for the sake of 
health or sociabihty? And is the one type using higher 
motives than the other? If so, can we get the '^ higher '' 
motives to operate instead of the ^^ lower ^'? 

Two things are involved : First, foreseeing other conse- 
quences than merely those that are obvious; second, 
preferring or choosing consequences of one sort rather 
than another. Can we train children to look for conse- 
quences and to prefer one sort rather than another? 
If we can, then we can train their motives, as well as 
their external behavior. 

Let us begin by thinking of ^^ consequences '' as the 
results of activities or enterprises. Instead of classify- 



180 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

ing consequences as selfish and unselfish, let us forget 
all about self, and think of what that self is doing. Do 
children, as a matter of fact, stop to choose between 
acts which will bring pleasure to themselves rather than 
to others, or do they rather follow out certain lines 
of behavior in which they happen to be engaged, without 
regard to consequences to either self or others? , They 
do not stop and say, '^ Go to now, I will get my soldiers 
out because that will bring me happiness.'' They say: 
^' I will get my soldiers out for a great battle.'' If 
you try to force an answer other than this simple conse- 
quence, they will say: ^^ Just because I want to." 
Unless already spoiled by unwise teaching, the child is 
not intent on seeking his own happiness, but on follow- 
ing out certain interests, whithersoever they may lead 
him. What is the important thing to him? Neither 
his own nor any one else's happiness, but the enterprise; 
and consequences are foreseen and chosen or set aside 
because of their relation to this enterprise. Such mo- 
tives are pure in the best sense. 

But this Purity of Motive is Usually Destroyed. 
We adults come along, and by our punishments and 
rewards we get the poor little duffers thinking not about 
things to do, and bigger and smaller enterprises, but 
about their own happiness or unhappiness, or their own 
pleasure or pain, and then, when we have distorted their 
motives by forcing them prudently to consider what 
effect a deed has upon their pleasure, we try to correct 
the fault by persuading them that pleasure is to be found, 
not by seeking it for oneself, but by seeking it for others, 
and so we substitute a '' higher " self-regard, which 
deliberately chooses to serve because, by serving, one 
can attain temporary or eternal bliss. 



MOTIVES 181 

This procedure is neither natural, nor necessary for 
the achievement of social-mindedness. It deUberately 
makes for the type of anti-social or individualistic 
mindedness that causes trouble in adolescence, when the 
boy or girl '^ wakes up 'Ho find that he has been a selfish 
animal, and in the throes of a conversion experience 
tries to undo in five minutes the bad effects of fifteen 
years of misguided teaching. It is a good deal to 
expect. 

What is the alternative? In general, it is this: Keey 
his attention upon enterprises , rather than upon '' mo- 
tives ^^; or upon social consequences rather than upon his 
own states of mind; and engage him in activities that 
will call into exercise his own potentialities and that will 
lead into the great human enterprises which are themselves 
the end to be achieved by men. Teach the children to seek 
first the Kingdom, and to find their satisfaction, not in 
the ^^ added things/^ but in the life of the Kingdom itself. 

The Growth of Motives. With very young chil- 
dren, the motives for activity lie naturally within the 
activity itself. They do not see beyond their play 
anything that is being accompHshed by it. The 
mother does, however. She sees the relation of this 
play to the winning of necessary muscular coordinations 
and habits of self-control. The child sees only the 
activity. It has no '^ consequences '^ for him. It just 
is. But gradually his plays grow more complex. He 
takes his nest of blocks apart and later puts the blocks 
together. Then he puts them on top of one another in 
constantly more varied ways, seeking constantly more 
distant ends. Even these units, such as '' playing 
blocks, '^ ^^ playing dolls,'' get taken up into larger 
enterprises: he builds a house for his dolls with his 



182 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

blocks, and does things, therefore, with his blocks that 
the blocks alone would not have suggested to him. 
He sees both blocks and dolls as part of a larger whole: 
building a dolFs house. This new synthesis later com- 
bines with other interests, and he will perhaps set up 
housekeeping with his dolls, developing all sorts of new 
activities which grow right out of the old, and whicji now 
constitute the motive for the lesser and contributory 
activities such as handling the blocks. 

In a similar way, the child begins as a member of a 
social unit, the family. Little by little, as he partici- 
pates in the family's life and becomes conscious of it, 
we want him to feel that this immediate activity is 
just part of a bigger enterprise, which includes the first. 
So with his day school and his church school, and his 
clubs and his unorganized relationships. The bigger 
enterprise gradually absorbs them all and constitutes 
the motive for them all. This all-inclusive social enter- 
prise is the Christian cause, the kingdom or common- 
wealth or democracy of God. It is this that the teacher 
sees from the beginning. To help the child participate 
in, and fit himself more perfectly for, this last and biggest 
thing is the teacher's aim. As soon as the pupil reaches 
the point where he sees what he does as a part of this 
world movement, his aim and the teacher's are the 
same. Each class session becomes then a cooperative 
effort to contribute something to this enterprise or to 
achieve some bit of skill or information which is needed 
for larger and more effective work elsewhere. 

Developing Motives through Activity. Instead of 
trying to persuade our pupils to be ^^ generous," ^^ un- 
selfish," '^ thoughtful " and the hke, let us see how we 
can engage them in the right sort of action, utilizing 



MOTIVES 183 

at each step the appeal to the instincts which are by 
nature socially directed, and making this appeal not 
by preaching but b}^ presenting actual situations re- 
quiring social adjustment, and by directing attention 
to the consequences that appeal to these same instincts. 
Any particular kind of situation after a while develops 
a selected response, or habit. This in time becomes 
modified by attention to consequences until a specific 
skill results. When this particular kind of response is 
formulated and accepted as the desired response for 
other hke situations, it becomes an ideal. When sup- 
ported by definite social sanctions, this ideal becomes 
'' duty.'' 

The Basic, Enduring Motives are Instinctive, 
but are in Need of Modification. We can depend in 
the long run upon the parental instinct to get a particu- 
lar habit or interest started. But we cannot depend on 
the instinct to guide us in emergencies. Uninformed 
mothering does not cure disease, though those who study 
how to cure disease may be prompted to do so because 
of the instinct to care for those in trouble. We depend 
on the desire for approval and the annoyance of disap- 
proval to get acts going which otherwise we cannot start. 
But as a permanent motive this is unsatisfactory as it 
stands. Whose approval is to be sought? Discrimina- 
tion among approvers must be taught. The desire to 
do what others are doing is a strong tendency in young 
children and often must be called into play in getting 
them started doing things which will later develop in- 
herent motives. The child takes part in family prayers 
at first just because the rest do. Professor Coe gives 
a charming instance : A child who had learned to count 
up to eight joined with the family when they repeated 



184 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

the Lord's Prayer by counting ^^ one, two, three, — " 
up to eight, repeating the performance till the prayer 
was ended. She was prompted to do this by her desire 
to be ^^ in the game,'' but this desire alone could not 
provide her with the necessary forms of cooperation. 
These have to be learned. 

It is equally true that to foresee consequences and 
let foreseen consequences get in their work on our 
instincts and acquired habits and interests takes time. 
In emergencies we have frequently to fall back on the 
habits already acquired as giving form to responses 
appropriate to similar situations, or upon the sense of 
duty that bolsters up parental instinct as against the 
instinct of self-defense, and calls into play the skill, 
if we have it, necessary for rescuing the child, assuming 
leadership of the crowd, or merely maintaining silence 
and a '^ cool head " long enough to analyze the situation, 
if there is time to do so. 

Resmne. These then are the sources of action: 
Instincts, pushing up within us, providing us with 
tendencies to behavior and with promptings or readi- 
nesses to types of behavior; acquired interests, based 
on instincts and representing the combination of various 
instincts and capacities developed in specific channels, 
and constituting acquired tendencies and promptings 
or readinesses to particular forms of behavior; ideals, 
including '^ duty," being formulations of desired be- 
havior, and bringing to bear the pressure of a real or 
ideal society upon the conduct of the moment. 

And these tendencies, general and specific, are called 
into play both by the immediate stimulus and by the 
imagined consequences of imagined action. 

What do we desire for our children, then? Simply 



MOTIVES 185 

gradual enlistment in the great human enterprises and 
interests: in family, school, church, industry and state; 
in art, science, literature, religion and organized life; in 
the pursuit and the practise of world-wide democracy 
in education, in industry, in art and in politics; and in 
the relief of distress. This means development to the 
full of special capacities or interests, as well as coopera- 
tion with others in practical affairs. And all this 
cooperation and this development of capacity is for the 
sake of the common good. This is the consequence to 
which we wish to make constant appeal and this conse- 
quence must be associated with the sense of duty, with 
the constructive social instincts, with all our skills and 
all our information. If we succeed in establishing this 
motive, we shall have relieved ourselves of the dilemma 
of having to start individualistic motives and then to 
change them into social motives, for the very same 
enterprises in which the child of six is engaged are those 
also in which the adolescents and adults are engaged, 
and all are working from the same motive — foresight 
of the common good. There will be no whited sepul- 
chers with dead men's bones within, or half-washed 
cups, for the Christian enterprise shall have grown 
up within the children and shall have been espoused for 
its own sake, and not for selfish advantage. 

It is exceedingly important, therefore, that we begin 
at the very beginning to utilize instincts that are nat- 
urally directed toward cooperation with others, to form 
ideals that look toward types of cooperative behavior, 
to establish habits of friendship, and justice, and co- 
operative deliberation upon the results of different 
ways of acting, with a view to choosing the behavior 
that promotes best the common good. 



186 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Typical Problems. How Kttle attention we ordi- 
narily give to the provision of motives for action is well 
illustrated by the two following problems : 

1. How shall we teach our pupils the practise of 
prayer? 

2. How shall we secure home work? 

1. What Motives are there for the Ten-year-olds to Pray at 

night or morning, say? What desirable consequences of praying 
are evident to these children? What have they prayed for or about? 
What has been the effect? Are they aware of any effect? Do they 
" pray '^ for gifts? Do they receive them? 

What ideals concerning prayer have been cultivated in them? 
Do they feel any obligation to pray? Is any social pressure exerted 
to lead them to pray? 

What instincts are there to lead to prayer, and what is the stimu- 
lus that starts the activity? Desire for approval? — Who approves? 
Imitation? — Who else prays? Desire to cooperate? — With 
whom? The parental instinct? — Have they been taught to pray 
for others? Fear? — It may be. 

They are not in the habit of praying. We cannot depend on 
that to keep the praying activity going. 

What then shall we do? 

Suppose we supply all these deficiencies, beginning with ourselves. 
We can ourselves pray if for no other reason than to let them know 
some one prays. We can get the whole class to try it. We can en- 
Hst the feehng of wanting to do what aU the rest do. We can discuss 
what prayer means and what its consequences are. We might even 
sometimes add a sense of obligation by starting the equivalent 
of the Y. M. C. A. '* morning watch ^^ pledge and so appeahng to 
the sense of honor to get the promised task done, which might be 
of use to get the activity going. We can provide an immediate 
stimulus in the way of a printed prayer or list of topics to be placed 
in the bedroom mirror. Added motive is afforded if these topics are 
worked out by the class, and are of a nature to stimulate such ten- 
dencies as the parental interest in others; the desire for approval — 
God^s approval; the desire to cooperate — to share in God's work; 
the tendency to criticize and idealize — leading to repentance, 
aspiration and resolution. 



MOTIVES 187 

Thus it will become an important cooperative enterprise with 
consequences for the common good, and incidentally the habit will 
be started. 

2. As for Home Work, how many teachers do you 
suppose actually take time to get the pupils interested 
in the next lesson? What reason do they have for study- 
ing it at all? Simply desire to please the teacher or 
fear of his disapproval? Whatever motive the pupils 
have, evidently it is not a powerful one, for the amount 
of home work accompUshed even in the best schools is 
depressingly meager. 

The pecuHar difficulties of church-school work at once suggest 
themselves : There is usually only one session a week, and a week is 
a long time to carry over an interest in a course of study; the work 
is voluntary; there is a strong tradition belittling the importance 
of the school work and sometimes making it a sign of mental weak- 
ness to study the lesson; and finally, sad to say, there is the accumu- 
lated effect of bad methods of teaching and lesson-making, which 
make the study of the lesson an uninteresting or even disagreeable 
drudgery. Witness the practise once used of assigning for daily 
Bible reading one verse of the next Sunday's story! Imagine a 
child's reading Treasure Island at the rate of three Unes a day! 
This is t3T>ical of preposterous methods now happily being out- 
grown. 

To apply some of the principles discussed in the preceding 
pages, we must find, first, a sort of home work that will really 
contribute something to the class work. And second, we must see 
to it that the pupils understand the relation between home work 
and class work. That is, the home work must be, in the minds of 
the pupils, an essential part of a cooperative enterprise in which 
they are already interested, and each pupil must feel that his home 
work makes a necessary contribution to this enterprise. 

This is a counsel of perfection. It is this state of affairs that we 
desire to attain to. Meanwhile, we must use, frequently, motives 
that are on a lower plane. It may be, for example, that one pupil 
will not do anything for the sake of the class work, unless some special 



188 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

interest of his, such as an interest in drawing, can be called into 
play. If this pupil can be asked to make a map or a note-book 
cover for class use, he will do so because he Hkes to draw. And then 
if he can be made to feel the importance of his map or cover for the 
class work and can receive the satisfaction of the class's approval, 
the first step will have been taken toward developing a truly coopera- 
tive motive. 

Let us caution ourselves at this point not to confuse the motive 
that leads one to do something Jor the sake of the social approval 
of the group with the motive that leads one to do something for 
the sake of the group , or the work in which the group is engaged. We 
may use social approval wisely in order to strengthen the desire to 
work for the sake of the cause, but we need to be on our guard 
against the danger that the social approval itself will be the sole 
object for which the child works. The child that is habitually 
compelled to ^' show off " for the benefit of admiring callers is in 
the way of becoming a sycophant, ever playing to the galleries, with 
no mind of his own, blown about by every wind of doctrine, intent 
only on applause and unhappy without it. 

This is not the place to go into details of method. 
A suggestion or two, however, may serve to illustrate 
the psychological laws involved. 

1. In order to stimulate interest in the class enterprise, describe 
to the class the plan of having a " class book,'' containing a record 
of what the class does. The minutes of the sessions, photographs, 
a class attendance chart, records of special events, the budget and 
treasurer's report, and anything else of common interest are put into 
this loose-leaf note-book which is displayed at the school exhibit 
at the end of the year. This gives concrete, tangible evidence that a 
piece of home work, such as an essay on some problem arising in 
class, is a real contribution to the class enterprise. 

2. In order to assure the maintenance of interest from week to 
week, care should be taken to seize upon problems that arise in a 
class session which can be made the starting point for the following 
session. The problem may be entirely within the subject matter, 
as, for example. What was there about Harriet Beecher Stowe's 
ancestry or early training or environment that would account for 



MOTIVES 189 

her ability to write Uncle Tom's Cabin? Such problems can be led 
up to as the concluding feature of a lesson, and then it can be pointed 
out carefully how the next lesson can be used to find the answer to 
the problem. Practical problems can be handled in the same way. 
The class may reach a clear-cut conclusion as to how to treat people 
who do wrong because of ignorance or under the pressure of starva- 
tion. " But you w^ere just asking what to do about those who, in 
spite of all their advantages and from the motive of sheer greed, 
commit terrible crimes. Well, the next lesson takes up this problem. 
Notice the title. And the references, you see, are to just such cases, 
and to the various ways in which such criminals have been treated. 
And you will see on page so and so how you can hunt out the Chris- 
tian way of dealing with this problem " — and so on. 

3. Make provision for the employment of special interests or 
talent, by letting pupils choose which parts of the lesson they will 
prepare or which problems they will take; or by assigning such 
problems or work as you know will appeal to the individual pupil. 

4. Teach the pupils how to study. Assist them in getting a 
place to keep their work, and in arranging their schedules so as to 
allow time for the study of the lesson or for hunting out something 
in connection with the lesson. Use a variety of methods — let the 
home work be flexible. Occasionally mail reminders of the work or 
make special requests for special work during the week. Be sure 
that any work to be done is understood and written down. Get the 
parents interested in the problems discussed by the class. Grade 
the home work carefully according to the age and abilities of the 
pupils; keep it difficult but not so difficult as to discourage all effort. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Why do children go to school? 

2. Does your school try to improve attendance and increase enrol- 
ment? What means are used? What motives are being developed 
by these means? Are these the highest of which the children are 
capable? Can you suggest a better way of proceeding? 

3. Observe a class, and note to what motives the teacher appeals 
to secure order; to provide for the study of the next lesson. What 
would you have done as the teacher of this class? 

4. Study the Boy Scouts, or Camp Fire Girls, or Girl Scouts in 



190 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

the matter of prizes and honors. How are these awards affected by 
the method of their presentation? Does the fact that the awards 
symbohze social approval justify their use? What evidence can 
you get as to the effect on the boys and girls? How do such prizes 
differ from monetary or other valuable prizes in their influence upon 
character? Do you approve of marks in day school? In church 
school? What sort of marks? 

5. Describe the method of missionary education in your school. 
What provision is made for knowing and foreseeing the consequences 
of giving? 

6. In what home activities should children of different ages en- 
gage? Which is better, to pay a child for performing routine home 
duties, or to have him perform them as a bit of family cooperation? 
How about special services? 

7. On the problem of human motives, R. C. Cabot, What Men 
Live By J will be found useful. 



CHAPTER XIV 

HEALTH 

The Relation of Health to Character 

Thoroughgoing Christianity Requires the Prac- 
tise and Promotion of Health. This has both a 
positive and a negative meaning. It concerns both 
personal and pubUc hygiene. Cleanhness is next to 
godUness in a far deeper sense than the author of this 
phrase imagined. 

We have already learned that one cannot be truly 
reUgious without considering carefully the consequences 
of his acts and choosing the acts that make for the com- 
mon good. Disease does not make for the common 
good. Being below par does not make for the com- 
mon good. Voluntary choice of a personal regimen that 
permits the decay of one's vitaUty is unchristian. 
Submission to conditions of public sanitation in cars, 
schools, public buildings, sewerage removal, plumbing, 
water supply, milk supply, food supply, coal supply, 
housing, which permit the breeding of disease or the 
lowering of the vitahty of others is unchristian. And 
surely to expose others unnecessarily to infection from 
one's own cold or other disease is a flagrant violation 
of good-will, and far removed from the Christian idea of 
social obUgation. 

Personal Health. It is not the place here to suggest 
a detailed program for the maintenance of the health of 
children. Parents will find programs adequately de- 

191 



192 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

scribed in such books as The Mothercraft Manual^ Mary 
L. Read; The Care and Feeding of Children^ L. E. Holt; 
Short Talks with Young Mothers y C. G. Kerley; A 
Layman's Handbook of Medicine j R. C. Cabot; How 
to Live, Fisher and Fisk. 

The last two volumes should be in every church- 
school library, and the last one should be owned by 
every teacher. The first of these two helps the social 
worker to detect the evidences of disease, and the second 
deals with the conditions essential to health. No one 
who attempts to be a leader of children can afford to 
neglect his own health, both for their protection and 
their inspiration. But beyond this a great deal can be 
done to promote the children's interest in health as an 
attainable ideal, and as a proper function of childhood. 

The interest in physique for its own sake does not 
seem to come till early adolescence. At that time ap- 
peals for proper care of oneself can usually be made 
effective if the relation of hygiene to physical develop- 
ment is understood. 

This conception of the relation of hygiene to de- 
velopment is not sufficient with younger children, how- 
ever. It is even difficult to get them to avoid candy 
for the sake of avoiding a stomach ache. It is hard to 
get children over six to eat so they will '^ grow.'' Even 
likening the body to a steam engine which needs coal 
(food) and careful cleaning (baths and brushing teeth) 
will not usually serve as an incentive strong enough to 
overcome temporary recalcitrant moods. 

But some interest in the regimen itself can be de- 
veloped, particularly if it is made a cooperative affair 
in which all the members of the family participate as in 
a sort of game. The game has rules of course. So the 



HEALTH 193 

family has rules of hygiene — even rituals and forms 
and ceremonies, which add color to the monotony 
of morning exercises and the washing of face and 
hands. Exercising and dressing to the accompani- 
ment of march music on the phonograph become 
almost recreation. 

Appropriate instruction in the mechanism of the 
body should be given as soon as interest in the subject 
will permit it.^ The direct study of the body and of its 
wonderful care of itself will be a far better incentive to 
proper hygiene than any comparisons with steam en- 
gines. Nor is it difficult to help the child to see the 
importance of simple precautions for the sake of others : 
the careful disposal of handkerchiefs, washcloths and 
towels, washing the hands, coughing into the handker- 
chief. These things they will do for the sake of others, 
even when the more burdensome ^^ setting up '^ exercises 
are neglected. 

It is more and more becoming the custom to use one's 
doctor to prevent rather than to cure disease, to main- 
tain the highest possible physical efficiency. Many 
families have their children periodically examined 
whether they are sick or not. Thus little things are 
detected before they become big, and many a serious ill- 
ness is avoided. It is no longer considered necessary 
that children should have all the '' children's diseases '' 
while they are young, any more than that a young 
man should sow his wild oats. What a splendid thing 
it would be if there were no diseases to maim and kill 
the children, who are not responsible as we adults are 
for the perpetuation of sickness. As long as every one 

1 A good text book on Biology is the Bigelows' Introduction to Biology, or their 
Applied Biology. Cabot's book, referred to above, gives sufficient anatomy and 
physiology for the average teacher. 



194 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

is '' just a little '' careless, epidemics of death-dealing 
disease may be expected. It must be that we don't 
care. If we cared enough, we would stop it. 

Many diseases, if detected in time, are less disabhng; 
and by maintaining top-notch condition, many diseases 
will be warded off even when the children are exposed 
to infection. Top-notch efficiency depends, however, 
upon attention to many things besides contagious 
diseases: enlarged tonsils, adenoid growths, decaying 
or misplaced teeth, heart weakness, constipation, eye- 
strain, foot trouble, and many other conditions. These 
can frequently be remedied before serious damage is 
done, but if allowed to go unattended to, they leave in 
their wake more serious and often incurable conditions: 
spinal curvature, tuberculosis, '^ rheumatic heart,'' 
intestinal adhesions, faiUng eyesight, misshapen jaws, 
bad teeth, flat feet, and all the rest. Get a doctor who 
understands health as well as disease, and who can 
detect incipient troubles before they get well started, 
to see that your children are kept well. 

The elements of healthful living are these: air, food, 
exercise, rest, work, recreation and peace of mind. 
One can get along, of course, with defects in any or all 
of these elements, but he will not be able to maintain 
top-notch efficiency without plenty of all seven. As 
Professor Thorndike is reported to have said when asked 
how long a man should work, " Take enough time to 
sleep, to play and exercise, to eat — and work all the 
rest of the time." 

It is not necessary to be a " fresh air fiend " and to 
make all your friends hate you in order to get enough 
fresh air. But if a child is below par, an open-air school- 
room is an advantage. Certainly windows are to be 



HEALTH 195 

wide open at night, and better still is the outdoor sleep- 
ing porch or some makeshift which provides the maximum 
of fresh air without depriving the body of needed protec- 
tion from cold. Draughts are of no consequence unless 
they chill the surface exposed to them. Cold bathing 
increases local resistance to cold draughts. Care should 
be taken to avoid chilling the body, however, for when 
the temperature is below normal, resistance is decreased, 
and any disease germs that happen to be already in the 
body are given a chance to grow and get rooted. This 
is particularly true of '^ colds '' which often seem to 
start after unusual exposure, but which really simply 
get a chance to take hold when resistance is decreased. 

Resistance is maintained by proper food and free 
ehmination of waste through skin, kidneys and bowels. 
In order to maintain body temperature, and to provide 
building material and storage of surplus, a well-rounded 
diet is particularly necessary for children. Relatively 
to their bulk, they need more food than adults. They 
are growing, and Uving at a higher pace. They have 
less endurance, and cannot go so long without food. 
Immediate depreciation of vitality is noticed when the 
food supply is cut down. 

Rest is indeed important for children. They need 
plenty of sleep. They grow when they are asleep! 
And their excessive expenditure of energy requires a 
long recuperative process. The good old custom of an 
early bedtime was a sound one. It helped make healthy 
children. For younger children, and as long as they 
can be persuaded to do so, an afternoon nap is a great 
blessing for the whole family. Certainly there should 
be time for rest if not for a nap. 

As has already been suggested, exercise is normal to 



196 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

childhood. Healthy children will usually take all they 
need. Those who lack vitality, however, are apt to 
choose sedentary occupations, just as grown-ups do, 
and to require special incentives to exercise, such as 
games. Special exercises assist symmetrical develop- 
ment, and counterbalance the asymmetrical effects of 
some games. Handball counteracts baseball, for ex- 
ample, by calling both arms into play. Swimming 
uses the whole body, rather than just legs, or just arms. 
When neither handball nor swimming are available, 
various ^' setting up '^ exercises, or gymnasium work, 
will artificially accomplish the same results. 

The pubhc schools are to be held accountable for bad 
as well as good physical results. All too little attention 
has been paid to sanitary conditions and to exercise. 
Children used to be required to sit for hours in much the 
same cramped position. No wonder many grew up 
with hollow chests, round shoulders and crooked spines. 
If adults need frequent change of position and stirring 
up of the circulation, how much more do the children, 
who are building their bodies? Getting up and stretch- 
ing, walking around the room, group exercises with 
windows open — or better, in a gymnasium — these 
things help to compensate for the tendency to sit still 
too long. But beyond these relaxations, there should of 
course be opportunity for physical development under 
expert supervision, through athletics, gymnasium work, 
swimming, hikes, and so on. The church should stand 
for physical education, whether in the schools or under 
other auspices, as an essential part of the educational 
program of every child. 

Peace of Mind. That there is an intimate connec- 
tion between mental condition and health is well under- 



HEALTH 197 

stood. The irritable mood is as likely to be directly 
due to indigestion or constipation or eye-strain or too 
little fresh air and exercise, as to a disappointment. 
When predisposed by physical condition to irritability, 
of course almost any incident is seized upon as the occa- 
sion of annoyance. Some such occasions are absurdly 
trifling, and would hardly distract attention under 
normal conditions. Frequent disability may easily 
lead to a habit of irritabihty, however, that continues 
between the physical occasions and becomes a permanent 
mental characteristic. Mere restoration to health will 
have to be supplemented by rigorous mental hygiene if 
such chronic bad temper or nervousness is to be overcome. 
On the other hand, the physical condition is largely 
dependent on the individual's state of mind. Shock 
from disappointment or fear or excitement is apt to upset 
digestion; this upset then starts the usual train of un- 
happy consequences. Hurry and worry and bad feel- 
ing are not conducive to good health. Over-excitement 
may be followed by depression with its craving for more 
excitement. Children who Uve in a tense atmosphere 
in which everything that happens causes explosive com- 
ments by the elders, where there is frequent clash of 
wills and display of temper, where every one is in a hurry, 
or always late or afraid of being late, where impending 
disaster looms high in imagination and all are worried 
to death over troubles that never come, such children 
are only too Ukely to grow up semi-neurotics, Uable to 
all sorts of physical ills, and to be regarded as ^^ nervous,'^ 
or '' cranky,'' or '' moody,'' or '' queer," all their Uves. 
Health does not generally blossom out of a desert of 
gloom and worry. It needs the peaceful, warm-hearted 
sunshine of adult self-control and mutual good-will 



198 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

for its nurture. Patience, calmness, moderation in 
expression, low-voiced rather than strident conversa- 
tion, slowness to wrath, and constant attention to the 
hopeful, happy, wholesome things by the parents and 
teachers will do more than almost anything else to 
create an atmosphere favorable to health. 

Public Hygiene. We cannot begin too early to 
interest the children in public health. Our Christian 
program for the world includes the promotion of the 
world's health. The child's contribution to it begins 
with his care for his own health. But he can very early 
participate in helping the family to keep well, in helping 
his classmates to keep well, and in helping other families 
to keep well. His contacts with hospitals for children 
can begin quite as soon as he enters the church school. 
He will help make scrap-books for the sick children 
to look at. This helps the doctors and nurses. He can 
go to see the crippled children and cheer them up. 
He can give his money for milk for babies who need it 
to keep well. 

Soon he can take an interest in clean streets, in gar- 
bage disposal, in campaigns against flies and mosquitoes 
and rats. Gradually, bigger and more difficult problems 
will present themselves: housing, sewage, and so on. 
In these matters children have already been engaged in 
great numbers. It is hard to see how a successful cam- 
paign against flies or mosquitoes could be conducted 
without children. In this and similar matters they have 
a real contribution to make to community welfare. 

But they will soon see that people of other countries 
are sick, too, and need help. They need to be made 
well not only for their own sake but also for the world's 
health. If sickness is to go, it must go from every 



HEALTH 199 

corner of the earth. No spot must be left un cleansed 
from which it can spread again. 

And what a wealth of romance and adventure the 
battle against disease has recorded; nurses and doctors 
have risked and given their lives to make others well, 
or to discover some treatment which could be used by- 
others to cure disease. One by one we are conquering 
them: smallpox, typhoid, diphtheria, hydrophobia; 
and the ravages of tuberculosis, plague, scarlet fever 
are being slowly reduced and limited. What a splendid 
war this is to engage in! Suppose we succeeded in enlist- 
ing every child among the forces so intelligently and 
determinedly arrayed against the forces of disease, it 
wouldn't take long to blot it out forever from the life 
of men. And this great Christian enterprise — to 
make the world well — is one of those in which it is 
most natural and easy to enlist the children. Does it 
not grow right out of their tender care for their dolls 
and their sick mothers or brothers and sisters? And 
see how many of our finest men and women are already 
doing this neighborly work. It is so completely human, 
and yet so splendidly divine a task. 

Let's begin at home and at the church school right 
away. How would it do to have health standards for 
both home and school and to try to Hve up to them? 
These would include, for the home, such matters as 
these : 

Home Hygiene. 

Regular hours for meals, and promptness at meals. 

Food chosen and prepared with scientific care. (This will mean, 

for many, less time in the kitchen and more at the desk.) 
DeHberate attempts to keep meals happy — if a member cannot 

keep up the spirit let him eat alone. 



200 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Regular bed time for all and kept by all, naturally varying according 
to age and duties. Let this hour be set down in each member's 
" rules " and there will be less difficulty about keeping it. Only 
the most extraordinary occasions should justify exceptions. 

Regular rising hours — letting the children's rest come at the early 
part of the night and so permitting a rising hour early enough to 
give time to perform all necessary household and personal duties 
without wasteful and irritating haste. 

A personal health regimen — cold sponge or hot bath according to 
doctor's directions, exercises, water, etc; rest at noon, outdoor 
exercise in afternoon; recreation faithfully allowed for; water 
between meals (avoiding common drinking cup) ; proper clothing, 
neither too much nor too little; fresh air day and night; proper use 
of light and care of eyes; periodic attention to teeth and examina- 
tion for physical defects. Family health grades (A. B. C. D.) 
might be devised, to be awarded each month to each member. 

School Hygiene. 

Building, One room for each class or curtained or screened space 
for each class, the windows on the left of the pupils. Younger 
pupils should be above the ground but on the first and second floors. 
There should be easy exit arrangements in case of fire. 

Ventilation and heat. If the janitor cannot attend to this vital 
matter, a special officer should be appointed to see that rooms 
are freshly aired and dusted, and that the temperature stays at 
about 68° F. A small investment in thermometers will greatly 
assist in this. Pupils can take care of their own rooms. 

Hallways. Wide, light, unobstructed, if possible, and leading 
straight to exit. 

Cloak Rooms. Wraps should be hung up and not kept on during the 
school session. If well aired and hghted cloakrooms are not 
available, racks or hooks can be placed in hallways. 

Toilets. Separate toilets for younger pupils on same floor as class 
rooms. All toilets kept thoroughly clean and aired and well lighted. 

Water. Bubbling fountain or paper cups, and not placed in toilets. 
If spring water is used, the inverted bottle or else a clean tank 
with faucet is needed to insure cleanliness of supply. 

Furniture. Chairs and tables adapted to size of children. Kinder- 
garten and Primary chairs ^should vary from ten to fourteen inches 

1 The Mosher model is satisfactory. 



il 



HEALTH 201 

in height, and the tables from twenty to twenty-five inches. 
Feltoid tips on chairs and tables prevent noise and slipping. 
Junior chairs and tables should also be smaller than for adults. 
Each child should be seated comfortably, with feet securely on the 
floor. 

Facilities for outdoor and indoor play and exercise. If health is to 
be given a central place in our scheme of rehgious education, the 
conditions of health must be recognized in church buildings. 
Few towns or cities have too many gymnasiums and playgrounds, 
with proper bathing arrangements, and yet these are essential for 
the health of children in cities and are a valuable aid in small 
towns. Churches might easily cooperate in a plan for providing 
adequate play facihties for their children. It is a splendid thing 
for children of all classes of society to play together under religious 
auspices. 

A health program, individual and social. Each child should be 
stimulated to keep at top-notch health and to develop as sym- 
metrically and completely as nature will permit. Physical 
efficiency tests of not too technical a nature can be devised and 
proper grading can be awarded regularly. Charts are helpful 
incentives. 

The schedules, even for one Sunday morning program, can give 
adequate attention to the physical needs of the children by op- 
portunities for relaxation, exercise and recreation. And during 
the week there is abundant opportunity for definite emphasis on 
the discipline and development of the body, which is the temple of 
God. Whether by gymnasium work by the boys or folk-dancing 
and esthetic dancing by the girls, which is the line of natural 
interest, or by some other suitable methods, the place of health 
and abounding vitahty in the Christian religion should be recog- 
nized by every church. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. At what hour does your church school meet? If in the after- 
noon, how does the children's physical condition compare with their 
early morning condition? If after church, what should be the na- 
ture of the school session to offset the confinement of the church 
service? 

2. Is there a recess between church service and church school in 



202 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

your church? What is done during this period if there be one? 
Should there be one? How can it best be spent? 

3. Observe some class closely to see which pupils are least re- 
sponsive. Discover if you can whether this unresponsiveness is 
due to physical conditions, such as overstudy, lack of nourishment, 
adenoids. 

4. Examine the ventilation of the rooms where the pupils meet. 
Is it adequate? Is the air kept fresh and moving? What is the 
temperature? Do children keep their wraps on? Change the air in 
a close, hot room and watch for any change in the behavior of the 
children. 

5. How can your school best promote the health of the com- 
munity? 



CHAPTER XV 

WORK AND PLAY 

Psychological Relations 

When Children Are Let Alone, They Play. What 
is more, they play hard. They do things that require 
great effort, long concentration, ingenuity, and co- 
operation with others. At first their play is indistin- 
guishable from other waking activities. They just 
act in a variety of pleasing ways in response to the 
strange and multiform stimuU that throng in upon their 
sense organs. The world invites them to experiment, 
to enjoy, to discover, to conquer — to play. 

These virginal responses of animals are valuable in 
many ways. The machinery of response is, of course, 
largely inherited. What the animals do is naturally 
what the race has been equipped to do by long struggle 
and selection. In responding according to the dictates 
of ancestral experience, the young are therefore begin- 
ning their own experiment in living. They are getting 
practise in the use of their equipment, making such 
improvement in it as the length of infancy will allow 
them. The higher up we go in the scale of development, 
the more the offspring play, and the longer they play. 
Their play activities give them an unquestionable ad- 
vantage in the game of life which they are thus learning 
in the shelter of the domestic circle. They learn to 
hunt without running the dangers of the real hunt. 
They learn to fight with friends who have no destructive 

203 



204 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

intention, and so acquire the technique they will later 
use with enemies. They learn to care for dolls in antici- 
pation of the duties of motherhood. By the same 
tendencies that lead their elders into the intricate opera- 
tions of social life, buying and selHng, building, hoard- 
ing wealth or art, fighting, home-making, the children 
are led to undertake similar activities. The form of the 
activity is determined largely by the adult life which 
they delight in imitating; the impulse comes from the 
deep-lying instincts to do these elemental things, and to 
have a share in the common life. If we did not de- 
Uberately teach children anything, we would find them 
learning all our tricks, eagerly helping us, and begging 
to be admitted into the mysteries of adulthood. 

The Beginning of Work. About the only standard 
we have of what real play is, then, is what children do 
when they are free to do as they please. When the facts 
of the unprotecting, undomestic larger world confront 
them, when, by the authority of those who are superior 
in strength they are required to do this or that, to go 
to school, to fetch or carry, to practise or study, the 
original area of care-free, undictated activity is infringed 
upon. What is left is still '^ play,'^ but the intruder, 
who makes demands upon their time and strength, by 
necessity or by authority, is called '^ work.'' The activi- 
ties may indeed be identical. The child would have 
hewn wood and drawn water and searched for the mean- 
ing of the printed page because something within him 
urged him to do so, and it would have been play. Now, 
something without compels him to, and the deed be- 
comes work. 

In an undomesticated universe, where men are un- 
sheltered from the hard blows of stern reality, compul- 



WORK AND PLAY 205 

sion — the compulsion of natural law — is always pres- 
ent. In addition to these compulsions of natural law, 
which make work necessary for the sake of livelihood 
and rest, there are man-made compulsions, that have 
grown up as the result of men's efforts to meet these 
natural compulsions in cooperation. Many of them 
are in the form of laws, disobedience to which brings 
punishment, just as disobedience to natural law brings 
its own disastrous consequences. On obedience to 
these laws, the life of society depends. They regulate 
the way the individual members of society shall work 
together for the protection of all. Other man-made 
compulsions are unwritten laws, customs, usages, taboos, 
etiquette, folk- ways, which have grown up more or less 
unconsciously, and which are more or less binding on 
individuals, being enforced by the approval and disap- 
proval of the group. These determine even more 
specifically and completely the way people shall behave, 
and so make still further inroads upon the area of play. 
Finally, the way by which men and women shall meet 
the necessities of life by their own industry are fixed 
chiefly by others. Industrial life is almost completely 
mechanized. The worker is a cog in the machine. He 
can no longer even meet nature's requirement in his 
own way. If he would five he must work as some one 
else directs, and for as long as some one else requires. 
In the professions the situation is only sKghtly better. 
Routine almost completely absorbs a person's time 
whether he teaches, or practises medicine or law. Artists 
are sometimes regarded with envy because they can 
paint what they like and when they want to. So they 
can, if they are willing to risk starving to death. But if 
art is a mode of livelihood and not a form of recreation. 



206 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

they must sell their product. And here again, society 
dictates what shall be painted to keep the pot boihng. 
And picture the mechanical routine of housework! 
An ejOBicient woman soon masters the technique. She 
may be free in decorating her home to her taste, once; 
but once done, it is done. One cannot buy new furnish- 
ings every year, as one's taste grows. And now. even 
babies must be brought up by rule. 

What is Left of Play? Is this almost complete 
mechanizing of life and almost complete elimination of 
the area of free self -activity that is original with child- 
hood, a desirable state of affairs? If so, let us continue 
the good work, and oppose every attempt to establish 
a living wage or to reduce the hours of labor, or to in- 
crease facihties for the enjoyment of leisure, or to train 
men to be independent contributing members of a de- 
mocracy. Democracy protests against the usurping of 
all a man's time by the compulsion of either necessity 
or authority, and it seeks a way of organizing human Hfe 
so that the compulsion of necessity shall be reduced to a 
minimum and the compulsion of authority be confined 
to maintaining conditions that benefit all aUke. The right 
to play in a protected society, with which a child is born, 
must not be denied to him as he grows up into citizen- 
ship in a bigger world than the family. Society must 
protect him from the fear of starvation and attack and 
the piracy of profiteers, and so give him room to be some- 
thing more than a pawn or a cog or a draught animal. 

Providing for Both Work and Play. However 
we fix it, compulsions will remain. Food must be raised, 
goods produced, and the necessary social machinery 
kept running. Work must be done, and children must 
therefore learn to work. 



J 



WORK AND PLAY 207 

But there are two ways in which the play Ufe, or the 
Ufe of free self-activity, can still be provided for. One 
way is by transforming work itself so that it will be a 
joy rather than a burden, an educating, rather than 
a dehumanizing, force. The other is to make pro- 
vision through recreation for the operation of the play 
spirit. 

Reform by Recreation. The second of these two 
methods of reUeving the situation is the one men nat- 
urally seek. It represents the Hne of least social re- 
sistance. It interferes least with privilege — indeed it 
is supported Uberally by those who accumulate profits 
out of the work that precedes the recreation. Most of 
our social reforms look in the direction of the better use 
of leisure. Leisure is what men work for, from their 
own point of view. Work is what men need recreation 
for, from their employer's point of view. From both 
points of view, desirable, that is, re-creating, refreshing, 
recreation, is worth paying for. 

The school is not an employer, although it has some- 
times assumed the attitude of an employer toward the 
children. Children must play so they can work better. 
Recess, as the name impHes, is an interlude between 
periods of school work. The interlude is not important 
enough to have a name of its own. But this attitude is 
rapidly changing, and the '^ play periods '' and '^ play 
methods '' are indications of the desire to make educa- 
tional use of the natural powers and interests with 
which nature has so lavishly endowed children. 

Transforming and Interpreting Work. Of the 
possible and necessary transformation of work, this is 
not the place to speak. That machines must be made 
to fit men, and not men to fit machines, is obvious. Yet 



208 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

only by the use of machines can enough goods be pro- 
duced to allow for other activities than those of supply- 
ing immediate necessities. And many other forms 
of mechanical work must be done if leisure for play is 
to be secured. But the mechanical work can be given 
Ufe and interest by being made an intelligible part of a 
process of manufacture or management that is under- 
stood as a whole by the machine-worker or the clerk 
who does the isolated part. The work of getting a 
living for the human race out of this old world is a 
fascinating enterprise in which every man, woman and 
child is interested, and in the control of which every 
man, woman and child has a right to share. We must 
educate for the world's work, as well as train for a 
trade, if we are to humanize the process of getting 
a living. 

ReUgious education has a particularly important 
function to perform here. The interpretation of work 
as a vocation of service to the world, rather than as a 
means of selfish plunder; the dignifying of work as a 
worthy human enterprise, essentially ahke in its spirit 
whether the activity be mining coal or operating for 
appendicitis; the beautifying of work by getting the 
spirit of Christ into control of its human relations — all 
these are tasks appropriate to Christian education and 
should find a place in any course of study and training 
that has for its purpose the making of Christians. 

Balancing Work and Play. Could work be thus 
transformed and understood, it would partake largely 
of the spirit of play, for men would achieve free self- 
realization through the consecration of their powers to 
the common good. Even so, however, there would still 
be much routine, much compulsory activity, in order 



WORK AND PLAY 209 

that this service might avoid the wastes of unorganized 
or competing effort. There will still be the need for 
recreation, even though men find ample opportunity 
for self-expression in their work. One cannot work at 
one thing indefinitely any more than one can play 
at one thing without becoming exhausted. Under the 
best conditions, change in activity will be necessary to 
keep the human machine in good condition. 

If this is true of the ideal society, how much more is 
it true that recreation is necessary for society as now 
organized! For the majority of people, recreation will 
offer the only chance for free self-expression, for the 
exercise of the higher powers of mind that are now denied 
activity. We must train children, not only to see the 
defects of our present way of doing things and to help 
reconstruct our social order, but also to get along as 
well as possible, meanwhile, with the social order as it 
is. The more abundant Ufe can be begun now, without 
waiting for the millennium. For most children, as they 
grow up, the road to this more abundant hfe will run 
through the land of play, not of work. They will have 
to turn from work to play to find both recreation and 
their own highest life. Let us not doubly rob them, by 
first denying to them the right to find life in work and 
then denying them the opportunity for wholesome use of 
leisure. Training for any vocation is no more necessary 
than training for the avocation, or leisure occupation, 
that can best be coupled with it to make a complete 
life of service and selfhood. Provision for appropriate 
recreation for each vocation is just as much a social 
function as provision for work. We must harness 
man's nature that it may do the world's work in the 
quickest, easiest, happiest way; and we must release 



210 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

it again, when work is done, to wing its own unimpeded 
way toward the heavenly City. 

The Psychology of Recreation. Recreation is 
the effort to win release from toil and fatigue and the 
restraint of prescribed routine. Such release is essen- 
tially individual. Its nature depends upon the physi- 
ological condition of the person that needs recreation: 
the condition, that is, that results from his predominating 
activity, his state of health and his temperament. The 
effort to secure this immediate and temporary release 
is similar in many respects to the effort of rehgion to 
secure ultimate and permanent release. The same de- 
sire for satisfaction is present as constitutes the motive 
of rehgion, only reUgion is concerned with more im- 
portant and more lasting issues. Rehgion is mind at 
work upon ultimate realities, supreme values, and the 
relation of the self to its own destiny and the forces that 
are supposed to determine that destiny. Religion ex- 
hibits the same alternation between repression and 
release as is found in recreation, only recreation is con- 
tent with the fragmentary and passing joys that drown 
care, that give us a taste of freedom, and send us back to 
the daily conflict with a song in our hearts. The dif- 
ference is, therefore, in the relative importance and 
permanence of the interests and values that afford re- 
lease, and in the completeness and depth of purpose with 
which one seeks to escape into the '^ large place." Conse- 
quently, when the values sought in recreation become 
more significant for the individual, more fundamental, 
more social, recreation merges into religion. And 
when religion tends by formalism or by decay, or in its 
elementary stages, to seek temporary and fragmentary 
values, it merges into recreation. In the beginning, 



WORK AND PLAY 211 

the two are not distinguishable, and certain modern 
religious ceremonies can be regarded simply as sheer 
recreation for many. 

Let us see more particularly what is meant by this 
merging of recreation and religion. It was suggested 
that religion and recreation are in the same series of 
facts, but nevertheless are not the same. At one end of 
the series is recreation, with its interest in activities 
that bring temporary rehef to the individual from 
strain and fatigue. The temporary satisfactions are 
those that are commonly sought, and they are sought 
pretty much without regard to ultimate consequences 
to self or others. But these activities frequently do 
involve others. Individuals associate with one another 
in their recreation. Mutual forbearance and accom- 
modation take place. The fact of a social situation 
sets going other interests than those of mere recreation 
or individual relief and relaxation. As this social 
horizon enlarges and as the social accommodations 
increase, recreation begins to lose something of its 
immediate interest. And when the boundaries of 
present social existence are broken through, and one 
seeks relief from the temporal in an eternal social order 
in which he finds his true self, we have recreation trans- 
formed into religion. Somew^here in the series, it will 
be hard to tell whether the activity is recreation or 
reUgion. In certain pageantry, for example, undertaken 
for rehgious purposes, to express an ideal and to raise 
the general level of social living, and yet functioning for 
recreation for all w^ho participate or observe, have we 
religion or recreation or both? This line of progress is 
indicated in Figure 12. 

But it is to be noted that the same transformation is 



212 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

observable in the case of work. Work, too, becomes 
religion, when its ends are socialized and ideahzed. 

^^ Co/n rnon x^ , 

Figure 12 

Working at first for mere existence, for temporary and 
self-centered ends, man comes in time to devote his 
strength to tasks that have as their object the social 
good. As the social horizon broadens and includes within 
its circle a realm of moral permanence, work becomes 
the labor of limitless love, the devotion to the Kingdom, 
the duty of the citizen of the eternal Democracy. And 
figure 13 shows this progress: 

i V Cofnrrfon Vj^ 5erv/'ge. ■ 

Figure 13 

Now play also exhibits the same transformation into 
the aspect of religion. Play, at first just the overflowing 
of life in instinctive channels, the sheer joy of Uving for 
the sake of living, becomes gradually concerned with 
other individuals, with ideas and fancies as well as 
things. Life itself becomes a great game, or a great 
opportunity for free and glorious achievement. And 
when one comes to stake his all on the eternal issues, to 
assume the mastery of his fate, to play in his imagination 
with destiny and with the prophecy of a new world, 
his play becomes religion, perhaps worship. Figure 14 
represents the transition: 

X ^^ Comrno*! ,^ K^orsAt'p . 

Figure 14 

Strictly speaking, in experience, we do not have a 
straight work-hne and a straight play-hne paralleling 



WORK AND PLAY 213 

one another continuously. Rather is there a constant 
alternation between the two, as represented in Figure 15: 



Figure 15 

The lower line of work merely joins the troughs of the 
waves, and the upper line of play joins the crests of the 
waves, and the alternation or movement from one to 
the other is ^' recreation/' At the left or less developed 
end of the series, recreation is on the level of work and 
play; as is one's work and play, so is one's recreation. 
The recreation is not an independent enterprise; it is 
simply the pulsing alternation between the two enter- 
prises of work and play. Engaged in meeting the neces- 
sities of physical existence, the primitive individual 
plays in crude and exciting ways suited to the process of 
rest and refreshment that is required by his physiologi- 
cal condition. ReHgion for him would be an ejffort al- 
most wholly in the realm of duty, or else would be a 
recreation characterized by the emotional excesses of 
primitive festivals and revivals. But as his work be- 
comes socialized and his play more refined, as he seeks 
his true self in moral rather than physical conditions 
and relations, so his recreation becomes an alternation 
more within the area of religion — an alternation, if 
you Uke, between worship and service. Worship serves 
as the great recreator for those whose tasks are com- 
pletely spirituaUzed by rehgion. 

What distinguishes the play-line from the work-line? 
Children play at work and work at play. To one man 



214 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

music is play. To another it is work. The difference 
is not in the act. Nor is it in the man; for at one time 
a man will find an act work which under other circum- 
stances is play, for example, writing a book. The 
difference is in the relation of the individual to the activ- 
ity, or, in other words, in the function of the activity. 
The performance of the biological functions which are 
necessary for existence is work. The higher or preferen- 
tial^ functions are the area of play, of choice, of enter- 
prise. The alternation between the line of biological 
functioning and preferential functioning is the recreative 
process. 

This does not mean that the exercise of instincts 
connected with biological functions is not, at times, 
play. Instincts are not functions. Indeed when the 
biological functions are on the strictly physiological 
level, the play of the individual is apt to involve basic 
instincts of sex, gregariousness, eating, fighting, and the 
Hke. As the biological function extends to cover the 
meaning of personal existence in a permanent spiritual 
world, the play activity takes on the form of valuations, 
choices, the joy of being intellectually alive, and aware 
of the meaning of the existence for which one is laboring 
both physically and morally. 

Both recreation and religion, then, are movements 
toward values that are conceived of in contrast with 
present conditions. Religion, as a movement or process 
of mind, may be thought of as a lesser and a greater 
alternation. The lesser alternation is the alternation 
between work on the religious level and worship on the 
religious level. The greater alternation is between the 

1 Cf. the discussion by G. A. Coe, A Proposed Clastijlcation »f Mental Funtti^nt, 
Psychological Review, XXII, No. 2. March, 1915. 



WORK AND PLAY 215 

whole fact of physical and spiritual limitation, transiency, 
fear, loneliness, and the whole fact of faith, or the as- 
surance of hoped-for freedom, permanence, confidence 
and ideal companionship. That from which recreation 
is the release may be thought of as temporary fatigue, 
external control, worry, care, routine, work. Religion 
releases a man from the temporal into the eternal. 
Recreation releases a man from work into play. That 
toward which play moves is free creation, admitting no 
Umitations save such as are self-imposed. Play and 
worship are of the same spirit, therefore, and merge into 
one another in rehgious drama, art, music and pageantry; 
and play and service, Hkewise, converge in all sorts of 
philanthropic and political activity that is undertaken 
for the joy of the work and which contributes to the 
common good. 

As work and play grow into the activities and moods 
of reUgion, so the work and play Hues converge, and the 
alternations become less extreme. In the end, work 
and play will be identical, because both will have arrived 
at the same goal, the complete and unified self, as is 
suggested in Figure 16 : 







'Ffi.cr^ action 

Figure 16 

We must have recreation as long as we must work. 
But we work for the achievement of a world where play 
will be the normal activity of mind, and in true play we 
find a foretaste of the eternal. 



216 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Secure time schedules of the way children spend their time 
on Saturdays, holidays or vacations. 

2. How does the procedure in kindergarten or first grade differ 
from what you would call play? 

3. Compare the games of five-year-olds with those of nine-year- 
olds. What have these plays in common? 

4. Is there anything injurious to character in play? Jjist chil- 
dren's games in two sets, those that help and those that hinder 
Christian growth. 

5. Ought children to work? What are the effects of various kinds 
of work as you have observed them? 



CHAPTER XVI 

WORK AND PLAY {Continued) 

The Educational Use of Work, Play and Rec- 
reation 

The Value of Recreation. Our analysis of work and 
play and of their relation to each other has brought 
to our attention two significant problems: first, the 
relation of recreation to work — the kind of recreation 
best suited to maintain efficiency, together with proper 
training therefor; and second, the relation of recrea- 
tion to life — the kind of recreation best suited to assure 
an individual the fullest self -development, together with 
proper training therefor. 

Psychologically, we have said, recreation is release 
from some kind of restraint. Restraint may be brought 
about by either desirable or undesirable activity. Play 
itself under our physical limitations may require an 
antidote. The essential change, therefore, is not from 
any one kind of activity to any other kind, but from a 
given activity to an activity that brings satisfying release. 
Whether or not this or that leisure occupation is recrea- 
tional will depend, therefore, on what precedes it, and 
upon the state of mind of the individual who partici- 
pates in it. Shakespearean drama may be recreation 
for the cultured woman of leisure. It may be hard work 
for the dramatic critic, or for the '' tired business man.'' 
Baseball may afford satisfying release for the mechanic 
in an ammunition factory. The bookkeeper in the same 
factory may prefer dancing or just '^ fanning.'' What is 

217 



218 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

recreation for the seaman on reaching port grows weari- 
some before he sails again; he seeks fresh contrasts to 
excite and entertain. He may even long to get back 
to his ship to get relief from the strain of shore life. 

Whether or not one can find recreation in this or that 
activity depends then upon the individual's experience 
of satisfying contrast and release in this activity, and 
upon the mood in which he finds himself. Whether or 
not this or that recreation activity is desirable from the 
point of view of the individuaFs welfare depends upon 
the effect this activity has upon him. Drink may afford 
a satisfying release from the strain of worry. This gives 
it recreational value to many. But the consequences 
are too serious to justify its use for this purpose. Gam- 
bling is undoubtedly a splendid recreation to many a 
man who is in need of emotional excitement, or who has 
acquired the habit of constant excitement in his work. 
But its use as a form of recreation is influenced by the 
effects upon the gambler. We must find for each an 
activity that will both bring the required release and 
have valuable, not disastrous, consequences. 

In general it may be said that individuals who have 
acquired definite interests outside of their work find 
recreation in the pursuit of these interests. The man 
who Ukes to make furniture turns to this handicraft in 
his leisure, whether he is a teacher or a mechanic, and 
finds in designing and building cabinets and chairs the 
sort of release that satisfies. Those who have no such 
well developed interest, however, are forced to depend 
on others for their recreation. What they do will 
depend upon the nature of their work. If they have an 
interesting occupation which affords scope for initiative 
and the satisfaction of ambition, the recreation sought 



I WORK AND PLAY 219 

I 

I will very likely be of the kind to stimulate the incipient 

I activity of strong instincts, as in the drama, vaudeville, 

baseball fanning, dancing, reading, courtship, cards, 

!! Entertainment which can be passively witnessed and 

which will not be too exciting is desired. Some, of 

j! course, turn to sport: athletic games, hunting, fishing, 

iand so on; but these usually have a well developed 

I interest in these directions which thus finds outlet after 

[being restrained from activity by the confinement of 

work. Those who are engaged in mechanical work, 

the repetition of the same physical or mental operation 

for hours at a stretch, or for whom work has become 

mere routine requiring no mental effort or intelligent 

control, find recreation in excitement and emotional 

experiences. They have been irritated by constant 

repetition of one kind of response. They are ready to 

explode not in the specific direction afforded by a hobby 

I or well developed creative interest, but in all directions. 

I Diffuse emotional excitement is therefore what they 

I prefer: the movie, dancing, fiirting, the noise and fights 

and loud comedy of the amusement park, drinking, 

i gambhng, all that brings laughter, shouting, crying, and 

j I mental excitement. When such emotional experiences 

jiiare unavailable, there is chafing, depression, instabihty 

!«or dulness.^ 

Many find in rehgion, as we have seen, an antidote to 
almost any kind of work. Rehgion is protean in form 

^If it be true, as W. B. Cannon holds, in his Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, 
■Fear and Rage, that adrenalin is secreted under conditions of emotional excite- 
ment, and that adrenalin acts as an anti-toxin to the toxins of physiological fatigue, 
then this accounts for the recreating effect of emotional excitement for those who 
are muscularly fatigued. The mentally fatigued, however, should have non- 
emotional recreation, inasmuch as emotional excitement, when not needed for 
recuperation, will provide an oversupply of physiological stimulant and induce 
vascular and digestive derangements, as in the case of fear. 

' Under conditions of adult life, joyous excitement seems to provide a much needed 
stimulant for the maintenance of mental and physical health. Readers are re- 
tferred to books listed in Appendix II, Nos. 114, 115, 116, 125. 



220 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

and satisfies the desire of every living thing. The young 
people's meeting, for example, is an opportunity for 
religious emotion, for courtship, for the exercise of leader- 
ship and initiative, for the adventurous participation 
in prayer, or the display of one's powers as a speaker, 
for singing, and laughter and love. Finding such things 
better provided for elsewhere, young people today, 
especially young men, tend to omit the prayer meeting 
from their weekly schedule. There is not sufficient 
'' recreation '' here for them. 

Childhood Recreation. What sort of recreation 
do children need to balance up the day's work in which 
society has engaged them? This will all depend upon 
the character of their school work, and of any other 
tasks which society or nature may require of them. 
The newer schools are giving children a chance to be 
individuals rather than cog-wheels. They do not be- 
come so fatigued by school. Recreation or reHef from 
the more rigid types of work, such as drill in arithme- 
tic, is provided for in the school itself. Even so, however, 
the whole system is a constraint, from which the child 
bursts forth with joy, just as he returns to it with joy. 
But any kind of play will do as a mere recreation. Let 
alone, the child, when released, will pursue interests 
begun in school, or will revert to the biological plays: 
running, fighting, climbing, imitating adults, building, 
housekeeping. He needs a place to play more than 
anything else, and will get recreation out of the most 
meager equipment. With almost inexhaustible interests, 
he usually has no difficulty in knowing what to do with 
his leisure. 

His initiative, however, may run the gamut of his 
games and be at a loss what to do next. Or he may have 



WORK AND PLAY 221 

so many budding interests that they interfere with one 
another. Sometimes he has so many toys or possibiH- 
ties of action, he cannot choose among them, and is in the 
state of mind of the ass who found himself half-way 
between two hay mows, and starved to death before he 
could decide which one to go to. This is the typical 
Sunday afternoon problem: ^' Mama, what can I do?^' 
It comes from the six-year-old and from the fourteen- 
year-old alike. Probably what these children need is 
not recreation but work. They are sick of recreating. 
The natural alternation between work and play is 
interrupted by the Sunday schedule. They want some- 
thing given them to do. They want a task. They need 
to be set going. The social mechanism that keeps them 
going during the week has stopped running, so they stop 
running too. The remedy is a social mechanism of the 
family circle developed for Sunday with the children's 
leisure in mind. Let the family as a whole do something, 
an excursion, reading aloud, a '' Sunday afternoon club '' 
in which all take part, and there will be no requests for 
^' something to do.'' 

The use of recreation as an educational force is com- 
ing to be widely recognized. The work of the Play- 
ground and Recreation Association of America, the 
increase of supervised play in schools, the building of 
gymnasiums and club rooms in connection with churches, 
the astonishing spread of Scouting and Hke movements, 
the organization of recreation in and around the training 
camps, the appearance of many books on play, the use 
of the festival, the pageant and the drama in connection 
with both public and church schools — all these things 
bear witness to the awakening of our people to the signifi- 
cance of play as a means of education both for work and 



222 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

for leisure. If play is a function of childhood, work is 
a function of adulthood. As part of play is to anticipate 
adult functions, so children naturally play at '^ work.'' 
But, granted the necessity of work, recreation is also an 
adult function. Children, therefore, play at grown-up 
recreation, and so develop interests that will subse- 
quently be pursued in hours of leisure. In their play 
we must help them to anticipate adult experience 
in all its phases, to learn control and cooperation, 
to learn the value of a purpose and the satisfaction 
of creation. 

It is our duty, therefore, to do everything we can to 
promote the recreation movement, and to provide for 
children and young people the sort of play that will 
develop, not destroy, their powers. 

Work and Education. But '^ playing at " work 
is not working. Should children really work? Should 
the attitudes and consequences characteristic of real 
work be taught them? Should they always be com- 
pletely sheltered from ultimate consequences, from the 
impingement of social obUgations? The school life 
makes provision in the experience of the child for what, 
to an adult, is work. Whenever children are allowed to 
make anything of marketable value and to sell it for 
American money, this is work. If they can buy with 
their legitimate savings or earnings in the open market 
and take the consequences of their judgment, this is 
work. If they can keep an account of their income and 
expenditures and have their accounts audited, this is 
work. If they could be responsible to the state for 
certain social duties, such as raising vegetables and 
flowers, sweeping house-paths, shoveling snow from 
walks, policing playgrounds and schools, making equip- 



WORK AND PLAY 223 

ment for younger children, printing church bulletins, 
caring for certain phases of school government — if 
they could be responsible to the state for such matters, 
be given absolute control, and be subject to no one but 
the elected ofl&cers of government among whom they 
would be represented,^ we would have here not ^' play 
at '' work, but work itseK, by which the children would 
be trained in the attitudes as well as the activities of 
work. The actual deeds would be the same, but the 
spirit of work would transform them into true social 
functions, for the children would be doing work by which 
they would be educated, not work by which they are 
prevented from being educated, as is the case in factories 
and mines and sweatshops. 

In religious education there must be provision for 
programs both of work and play. There must be real 
reHgious work and play at forms of reHgious work into 
which the children shall grow. And there must also be 
recreation or relief from the work that society imposes 
properly or improperly on childhood. 

The Program of Work. The church school should 
of course set its face against ^^ child labor '' and all 
forms of exploitation of childhood by employers, schools 
and parents. The children themselves can be enlisted 
in the effort to secure for every child adequate op- 
portunities for education and health. The school should 
also promote such pubhc-school and community move- 
ments as will recognize the true place of children in 
society and will provide them with suitable work. In 
this, too, the cooperation of the children themselves 
is of great value. 

1 See article bv G. A. Coe, on The Functions of Children in Religious Education 
for February, 1918, XIII, 1. p. 26. 



224 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

The preparation of a program of work for the children 
of the local church would require an analysis of church 
functions and the assignment, to children of different 
ages and abilities, of functions appropriate to them and 
of educational value. Looking after class affairs such as 
the treasury, the attendance records, the causes of ab- 
sence, the securing of new pupils, the preparation of a 
class exhibit; participation in community betterment 
or individual relief work; the performance of school 
duties such as the choir, ushering, the bulletin boards, 
care of materials, participation in the leadership of 
assemblies, school government, the management of 
school festivals and picnics, preparing an exhibit; the 
performance of church duties, ushering, printing, mes- 
senger service, decorations, care of property, attention 
to shut-ins, assistance in surveys and campaigns, sing- 
ing in choir — all these and many other necessary activi- 
ties could be graded and distributed among the children 
so that every child would take his turn at a social duty 
every year. Training for speciaUzed forms of service 
would of course be a part of the work of young people, 
and should be recognized as just as much ^' work '' as 
singing in the choir. 

The Program of Play. When play is ^^ provided 
for,'' or a program of play is '' prepared,'' play loses 
something of its native spontaneity and its value as a 
form of complete self-expression. A true program of 
play would be a gap in the day's work in which each child 
could do exactly as he pleased. At all events, to main- 
tain anything of its spirit, play must be voluntary, not 
required, and children should be allowed scope for both 
initiative and choice. 

There are many activities in which children are too 



WORK AND PLAY 225 

young to assume full responsibility but which they 
enjoy playing at. Dramatizing, both spontaneous and 
formal, can be utilized to give insight into many future 
activities as well as to make vivid a Biblical event, or a 
mission field. Here belong church pageants which por- 
tray the work of the church or of some related insti- 
tution,^ as well as the childish imitations of church 
services, representation of stories of Red Cross work, 
the '^ pioneering '' of Boy Scouts, the domestic dis- 
cipline of Camp Fire Girls, the chivalry of the Knights 
of King Arthur, the Indian lore of the Woodcraft 
League. 

But of equal importance are all games that afford 
opportunity for learning elemental forms of self-control 
and cooperation. The play spirit, the idea of sportsman- 
ship, the ^' rules of the game,'' habits of courtesy and 
forbearance and comradeship are all learned in the art of 
playing cooperative and competitive games, where in 
the heat of friendly strife and individual strain, in the 
joy of physical activity and the excitement of conflict, 
the habits are built up that make the difference between 
clean and dirty playing. In situations of Uke character 
these habits will work, and, as men and women play 
games all their lives, this training is of fundamental 
importance. Without special effort to form ideals and 
habits of true sportsmanship in other activities also, 
however, there is no assurance that the boy who learns 
to play fair in baseball will also play fair in business 
relations. Fair play in work must be learned in the 
^^ program of work '' by working fairly. 

The Program of Recreation. Recreation as we 
have seen is not distinguished in its activities from either 

1 See A Pageant of the Church by Misses Stone, and Forman, Y. W. C. A. Press. 



226 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

play or work. Play is the customary form of recreation 
for children. It affords the needed change from the 
physical constraint of the classroom and the social 
restraint of '^ duties." The kind of recreation that is 
provided for each age will depend upon what else the 
children of each age are doing. Recreation is a balanc- 
ing occupation, maintaining equihbrium. As it has to 
be continued through life, it must not only be engaged 
in for its own sake but must be prepared for. Children 
should develop interests that will afford recreation as 
they grow older. Many a man's life has been saved by 
an absorbing interest in stones, or bugs, or birds, or 
flowers, or camp-craft, or photography, started in youth. 
Some of course are capable of beginning such interests 
late in hfe, but for most people these avocations and 
hobbies will be started in youth or not at all. 

But it is not only the grown person that is fortunate 
in having a hobby. The high-school or college boy or 
girl is provided with a splendid safeguard against many 
temptations who has some regulating interest, such as 
dogs, or electricity, or music, or art, with which to 
occupy his mind during leisure hours. And the boy or 
girl at work is sadly handicapped who has no big, com- 
pelhng, creative activity to turn to when work is done. 
We must begin early to start going many lines of interest 
in the hope that at least one will stick, which will later 
provide suitable relief from whatever work the young 
man or woman may choose. 

This training for recreation may be a part of the 
child's work or play or recreation. Out of the study of 
botany, geology, biology, physics and all the rest come 
many avocational interests in the pursuit of which a 
man finds his freedom and joy. Out of games and sports 



WORK AND PLAY 227 

of youth, many a person develops lasting athletic 
interests. Out of organized recreational activities, Hke 
the Boy or Girl Scouts, come general interests such as 
camp-craft, which endure as forms of adult recreation. 
Our program of recreation, therefore, must be antici- 
pated for each age by preparation in the years preceding, 
as well as organized for any age with reference to the 
dominant work activities of that age. For the younger 
children, recreation may well be merely free play. 
For boys and girls, the usual games and plays may be an 
insufficient antidote to the school work, and such or- 
ganized recreations as are provided in the Pioneers, 
Brownies, Boy Rangers, will be needed. And in adoles- 
cence play will be almost wholly confined to the few 
hours available for recuperation from work, and will, 
therefore, be almost wholly determined by the nature of 
the work. Segregation of the sexes must be counter- 
balanced by mixed parties; study, by scouting or 
athletic sports; prescribed reading or prescribed book- 
keeping, by creative activities in the writing and giving 
of plays; mechanical work, by dancing, music, scouting, 
athletics, and such creative work as can be done. 

For each age there will be work and play. As work 
gradually increases and encroaches on play, care must 
be taken that sufficient time is left for the recreative 
effects of play, and that play properly counterbalances 
and relieves work. Programs of play then become 
chiefly programs of recreation, through which the 
individual is not only physically recuperated for more 
work, but also spiritually enriched by engaging in activi- 
ties of value in themselves as the means of full and free 
self-expression. 



228 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND OBSERVATION 

1. Which do children enjoy more, supervised or unsupervised 
play? 

2. Suggest a graded program of work for children by which they 
shall perform a real service to the community or church or home, and 
be trained for future work in the Christian democracy. Help will 
be found in Graded Social Service for the Sunday School, by W. N. 
Hut chins. 

3. Suggest a graded program of play for children, by which they 
shall play at important rehgious activities in which they shall later 
engage, and by which they shall secure training in Christian sports- 
manship. Help will be found in Play and Education, by Joseph Lee; 
Education by Plays and Games, by G. E. Johnson; The Dramatic 
Instinct in Education, by E. W. Curtis; The Dramatization of Bible 
Stories, by EHzabeth E. Miller. 

4. Suggest a graded program of recreation and training for recrea- 
tion, providing for the proper use of play as an antidote to work 
and as an opportunity for self-reaHzation. Help will be found in 
the books just named and also in Recreation and the Church, by 
H. W. Gates. 



I 



CHAPTER XVII 
CHARACTER 

Discipline for Democracy 

" I am the master of my fate, 
I am the captain of my soul.'' 
— Henley. 

Character and Democracy. The preceding discus- 
sions have tended toward this conclusion: Character 
is not a mechanical way of doing things imposed by- 
society upon individuals. Neither is it a sort of super- 
social will which an individual imposes upon society. 
It is rather a dehberate responsiveness to social need, 
a responsiveness which looks toward a social ideal that 
has been consciously adopted by the individual as his 
own. Such responsiveness is not original in man's 
nature. Neither can it be forced upon a man by law 
or custom. Law and custom alone would tend to make 
the individual mechanically responsive, not deliberately 
and freely responsive, to the needs of society. One who 
is trained merely to obey orders has no character at all. 
He is only a tool, a machine. Democracy is a theory of 
character as well as a theory of social organization. 
The two things go together. The individual is the 
sort of person the state allows him to become. The 
state is the kind of state that its individual members 
make it. Autocratic forms of social organization can- 
not allow individual freedom, or character, among sub- 
jects. A state whose members possessed ^^ character '^ 
would not be an autocracy. Democracy is character in 

229 



230 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

terms of social organization. Character is democracy 
in terms of its individual components. They are two 
aspects of the identical thing. Democracy, except as 
an ideal, is not something which exists in the world 
independently of the character of its individual members. 
Nor is character something which exists in individuals 
independently of their life in social groups. Men 
achieve character only by living together, and by exactly 
the same process and at the same time they are a so- 
ciety or social group. If the individuals in the group 
hve together by exploiting one another, or by submitting 
to some external authority, or by training some members 
to obey and others to rule, we have neither character 
nor democracy. But if they hve together by deliberately 
cooperating for the common good, submitting to the 
common wiU, and training all to serve, each according 
to his abihty, we have both character and democracy. 

Christianity and Democracy. Christianity is com- 
ing to throw the weight of its influence on the side of 
democracy, although its history has not been free from 
the theory and practise of autocracy. Jesus revolted 
against the spiritual autocracy of his day in the interest 
of spiritual democracy. His followers soon set up an 
ecclesiastical autocracy that survives now as the Roman 
Church. At the time of the Reformation there came a 
reaction against this absolutism of the church in the 
interest of ecclesiastical democracy. And later, as part 
of the same movement, in France and England and 
America, there came a reaction against the divine right 
of kings and princes in the interest of poUtical democracy. 
None of these movements has completed its course. 
ReUgious customs, religious organizations, states, still 
largely dominate individuals, preserving the ancient 



CHARACTER 231 

order of autocracy, and consistently opposing all move- 
ments for the development of self-directing character. 
And now, in these latter days, revolt is rapidly spreading 
against plutocratic control of the processes of industry 
in the interest of industrial democracy. This move- 
ment cannot be dissociated from the rest, because of 
the interlacing of all the forces of autocracy, spiritual, 
ecclesiastical, poHtical and industrial. One after an- 
other of these revolts against authority is being es- 
poused by Christianity. More and more clearly the 
Unes are being drawn between the power of privilege in 
high places and the power of the people. More and more 
clearly the issues of the great World War have been 
stated in terms of democracy against autocracy, and 
over the whole world, these two fundamental forces 
are being arrayed against each other in more and more 
open conflict. Whichever way we turn, the fight is on. 

Education and Democracy. Shall we educate for 
democracy or for autocracy? Shall we develop indi- 
viduals whose function it is to direct themselves by 
the Hght of a social ideal toward which they freely 
and gladly move, or shall we develop individuals whose 
function it is to obey other individuals so that these 
other individuals may reap the fruits of their obedient 
and docile labor? Machines, or human beings — we 
must choose which we shall make of our children. If 
we are free to choose, or are not already so well regi- 
mented by our own training as to be incapable of choice, 
we shall of course choose democracy. Wherever there 
is real choice there is democracy already, and our con- 
clusion is foregone. 

Self-Direction. If democracy be the outcome we 
desire for our educational process, we shall have to pro- 



232 



CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 



vide for certain elements in that process which will make 
for the development of character, of deUberate re- 
sponsiveness to the social need in the direction of a social 
ideal. And if we are to characterize further our social 
ideal as '^ Christian/' we shall have to add to these 
fundamental elements whatever we understand by the 
Christian standard of character and of society .^ All 
through our educational process, from the cradle to 
graduation from school, we shall have in mind the self- 
directing individual who forms an integral part of a 
democratic society, increasingly controlled by Christian 
motives. To say that a child has a right to self -direction 
from the beginning seems rank absurditJ^ Let us chal- 
lenge our thought by putting it even more strongly: 
a child has the duty of self -direction from the beginning 
if he is to be a member of a democratic society! It is 
no less absurd to say a man is not fit to be a member of a 
democratic society because society says to him, '^ You 
shall not drink intoxicating Uquors,'' than it is to say 
a child is not fit to be a member of a democratic 
society because society, through the agency of the family, 
says, '' You shall not eat what will prevent your being a 
healthy child.'' It is just a matter of degree. As 
rapidly as possible, within the field where choice per- 
mits a process of learning to take place, choice must be 
made, else the power to choose will be distorted or never 
developed. As a matter of fact, the field of self -direction 
is considerable, even with a baby. He gurgles and coos 
and moves his arms around, following his mother with 
his eyes until he can follow her with his feet. Within 
limits set by the good of the group of which he is a part, 
he has his own way, playing as he pleases. But the 
range of choice might be considerably extended in the 



CHARACTER 233 

average home, and the children might have a far larger 
share in the determination of the family life, by which 
they would learn a vast deal about practical democracy. 

Only by having an experience of social responsibility 
can children contrast the effects of cooperating and of 
failing to cooperate, and so learn to direct themselves. 
If they are always under the autocratic control of 
parents, submitting to them in every last detail when 
an issue arises, they will be well trained for submission 
to the authority of other forms of privilege later on. 

This story is told by a prominent American educator 
about his son, a lad of eight years. The boy said one 
day, '^ Papa, you and mamma are just tyrants. I 
always have to do just as you say.'' The father said 
he was sorry he felt that way about it and explained 
that mother and father were older and knew best what 
was good for little boys, and only wanted him to do what 
was good for him. ^' That doesn't make any difference. 
I have to do as you say." '^ Well," said the father, 
'^ you know you don't have to do as I say. You really 
can do just as you please." ''Oh, can I? " said the boy. 
'' Why yes," said the father. ^' See, here's my pocket- 
book. You take it, and do just as you please, and 
I'll not stop you." With a whoop the boy ran upstairs 
and began to pack his suit-case to go somewhere. The 
father began to be a bit nervous, but he decided he'd 
see it through. Pretty soon, the boy came to his night 
clothes, and then he must have thought of how lone- 
some it would be to go to bed at night without his 
mother, for he came softly downstairs again and said to 
his father, '' I think I'd better take mother with me." 
And that was the end of his independence. He had dis- 
covered his place in the family group not by being 



234 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

'' shown his place '' but by trying to fill a place too big 
for him. 

Only in real social experience can the knowledge of 
one's real social function be obtained, and just to the 
degree that this knowledge is one's own will one possess 
character, and be a democratic citizen rather than the 
subject of an autocrat. Self-knowledge is essential to 
character. 

Self- Knowledge. Many have feared that knowl- 
edge of one's own ability or inability to perform social 
functions was appropriate only to adolescence, and that 
children should be unconsciously inducted into the habits 
of correct behavior much as a sapling grows, it knows 
not how, into the great tree. But children grow up in a 
society which automatically approves and disapproves, 
and which stamps its sanction upon certain acts called 
" good " and its veto on certain acts called ^' bad." A 
child cannot help knowing that some kinds of acts, if 
known, will be called good, and some bad, and that the 
same words will be applied to himself. This is the begin- 
ning of his notion of right and wrong. Any puppy can 
learn as much by proper punishments and rewards and 
will show the same signs of a guilty conscience that a 
child does when detected in the act called ^' bad." The 
unconscious type of morality leaves children pretty much 
on the puppy level, and does them and society gross 
injustice. It defeats our purpose to educate for democ- 
racy by denying the child the right and the duty to be a 
human being. 

The opposite of this method is to help the child to a 
real knowledge of himself and of his motives and pur- 
poses so that he knows '' goodness," not in terms of a word 
arbitrarily applied to some acts and not to others, but 



CHARACTER 235 

in terms of the results of his behavior; in particular, 
the effects which lead others to approve or disapprove 
of it. Instead of constantly interposing its judgment 
between a child and the results of his acts, and so pre- 
venting him from forming judgments on the basis of 
facts, society must let the child see the thing through and 
so arrive at the same source of knowledge that his elders 
have. Obviously we must not let a child kill himself by 
experimenting too soon in a compUcated environment 
for which nature did not equip him. But experiment 
he must, and as widely as safety permits. Very hkely, 
also, if we take the comfort of children into account, 
as well as the comfort of adults, many customs concern- 
ing the '^ proper '' behavior of children will be changed. 
Democracy requires mutual forbearance, and adults 
as well as children will have to yield to the common 
interest. Adults as well as children need discipline for 
democracy. 

Self -Discipline. We have spoken of self-knowledge 
and seK-direction as essential to democratic character. 
The kind of disciphne a democratic society will provide 
is the kind that will lead as rapidly as possible to self- 
discipline. As soon as the individual, whether he be six 
or fifty, learns how to direct his own conduct toward 
social ends, and, therefore, to disciphne himself, the 
discipline of society ceases. Society steps in at the point 
where an individual has not yet achieved control of 
himseK, and helps toward self-control. Or, to put it 
the other way around, society steps out from control 
just as rapidly as the individual learns to control him- 
self; but it gives him every chance to learn. That is, it 
provides him with the kind of discipline that will emanci- 
pate him. Children desire this kind of discipline. 



236 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

Frequently they are glad to be freed by punishment or 
encouragement from the dominance of some mood or 
desire. When a child is asked why he does not behave, 
a frequent answer is, '^ Because I can't," and, unless 
the misdeed is really trivial, the child will welcome the 
means that will lead to self-control. 

Social Control for Self -Discipline. The agent of 
this social control which looks toward the freeing of 
the individual from external constraint is sometimes the 
family, sometimes the class, sometimes the club, or the 
unorganized play groups. But the control is exercised 
for the sake of the larger society only when some one is 
present who can act for the larger society, and mediate 
its authority. This the parents and teachers do, some- 
times well and sometimes poorly. But when social 
discipUne is necessary to preserve the life of the group, 
it is not the parent's or teacher's private will that rules, 
but the will of society. This the individual child should 
be made aware of as soon as he can understand any sort 
of social control. It is an interesting question how far 
this social will back of the parent or teacher should be 
thought of as the will of the ideal society, or the will of 
God, and how far it should be regarded as the will of the 
state. So far as the will of the state is expressed in 
laws, it is generally easy to answer this question. The 
ideal social will and the will of the state are here fre- 
quently identical. But in the case of conduct outside 
of existing law, or in the case of ideals of conduct which 
contradict legal standards, the question is more difficult 
to answer. The present state law may contradict the 
demands of an ideal society just as many of the old 
" blue laws " of Pennsylvania and Connecticut contra- 
dict modern standards. But the state itself is in the 



ill 



CHARACTER 237 

process of becoming more democratic, and therefore 
more moral, and must consequently be supported at its 
present level as well as urged on to higher levels. 

There should be no hesitation in training children to 
obedience to the ideal world society, if we are sincere 
in our intent to gain the conditions of peace. No disci- 
pline for any kind of autocracy will be tolerable. De- 
mocracy will one day come to its own in church and 
state and industry, and therefore in the school, and back 
of every teacher and every parent will be the will of the 
ideal society. 

The New Character. This idea of character and 
the method of its achievement will lead to many changes 
in our educational practise. The most notable change 
will probably be in the direction of a clearer definition 
of character in terms of the intelHgent control of social 
activity, and the effort to measure achievement in 
character. By observation and experiment we shall 
have to discover what the standards of moral achieve- 
ment are for each stage of childhood. In terms of actual 
behavior in actual situations, what is it to be '^ good '^ 
at a given age? How Christian can a child of six really 
be? And how much progress can he be expected to 
make in a year? What good habits should he have? 
What characteristic childish '^ faults '' should he be 
able to overcome? How much responsibihty can safely 
be placed on his shoulders? How responsive can he be 
expected to be to the needs of others? How much can 
he comprehend and desire of the ^' ideal society ''? 

These things we should know just as we know how 
much progress he can be expected to make in arithmetic 
and writing and language. And when we have succeeded 
in stating the characteristic achievements of a six-year- 



238 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

old, we must help him to see these possible achievements 
objectively, as things which he is expected to measure 
up to, and he must know whether or not he is making 
progress in the business of social intercourse just as he 
must know whether or not he is making progress in 
school. He must be in a position to measure himself 
by reference to some standard, if he is really to make 
intelligent progress in the achievement of character. 
Doubtless many will object that this is pharisaism, and 
that such knowledge of one^s ^' goodness '' would lead 
to insufferable priggishness. That depends on how we 
define '^ goodness.'' If we define it in the individuaUstic 
sense of superiority, we shall get intolerance and pride. 
If we define it in the sense of being equipped to take one's 
full part in the world's work, and of actually taking that 
part, not thinking about it, we will get humility com- 
bined with confidence. If we define our standards in 
terms of good and bad as quahties to be achieved, and 
if the performance of certain deeds is accompanied by 
approval for the quahty, then we shall have the self- 
conscious, seK-righteous prigs we all dishke. But if we 
define these standards in terms of deeds and results, 
both social results and the mastery of self, we shall have 
an objective character, that knows itself, and yet is 
unconscious of its own ^^ virtue." Its worth will be 
measured by its contribution to the good of others, not 
by its happiness or its possession of abstract qualities. 
This will require a revision of our vocabulary of ethics. 
We lack words with which to describe these social 
achievements. We have only the words that are asso- 
ciated with individualistic ethics and a ^' faculty " 
psychology, such as honesty, generosity, courtesy, 
patience. These words measure abstractions, not con- 



CHARACTER 239 

Crete achievements, though they may help, to be sure, 
in the conquering of special faults or weaknesses. In 
their stead we need such terms as '' cooperation,'' 
^' health," '^ work,'' '' playing the game," ^^ according 
to rule," '^ justice " (in the sense of an objective rela- 
tionship), ^^ friendship," '^ peace," together with princi- 
ples of conduct in terms of actual deeds, such as '^ love 
one another," '^ play fair," '^ lend a hand," '' think of 
others first," ^' be a good sport," " in everything give 
thanks," rather than '' be kind," '' be cheerful," '' be 
good," '^ be honest," and the like. In any case, the 
need is that the interest and the ideal be centered in the 
deed and its purpose rather than in the quality of 
character the deed is supposed to manifest. Such a 
practise would make it entirely practicable for us to 
discuss our deeds as freely and unconsciously as people 
used to discuss their '^ experience " in the old-fashioned 
prayer meeting. We would confer with one another on 
the interests of the Kingdom, each reporting his share of 
work done, whether that consisted in helping a blind 
old man across the street, giving a dollar to the Red 
Cross or taking the minutes of a committee meeting. 
Without some such frank and open discussion of our 
mutual work in the world, it is hard to see how we shall 
ever bring to bear upon one another the pressure of 
opinion and interest that is necessary if we are to be as 
successful in organizing the forces of Christian de- 
mocracy as we are in organizing business and poUtics. 
Something must be done to give currency and vigor to 
the Christian ideal in practical social relations. Why 
not try talking about it, as Jesus did, and getting others 
also to experiment with it, as he did, lifting it out of the 
limbo of the undiscussable and the fantastic by our own 



240 CHILDHOOD AND CHARACTER 

demonstration of its naturalness and its success? ''Char- 
acter '' will become popular when it ceases to be the mark 
of the pharisee and is recognized as the prerogative of 
all who seek, each in his own way, to make 

"... justice roll down like waters, 
And righteousness as a mighty stream." 



APPENDIX I 
Things Children Do and Say 

In cases where this book is used as a text, teachers 
will sometimes find it of help in the interpretation of 
childhood to read with the class some of the famous 
poems of childhood. Most of these that are suggested 
are found in The Home Book of Verse for Young People, ^ 

Rabindranath Tagore, The Hero^'^ Plaything Sj^ Voca- 
tion.^ 

R. L. Stevenson, My Shadow, Young Night Thought, 
The Land of Counterpane, 

Eugene Field, Seein^ Things. 

J. W. Riley, The Raggedy Man, A Boy^s Mother. 

H. S. Corn well. The Sunset City. 

Gabriel Setoun, The World^s Music. 

Laurence Alma-Tadema, Playgrounds. 

William AUingham, The Fairies. 

PART I 

STORIES BY AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GIRL 
This story was written without suggestion or help. 
The spelling and punctuation are not reproduced except 
where they enhance the effect. 

ROSE MALAND STORIES 
30 Chapters 

THE ADVENTURES OF ROSE MALAND 

A Lovely Story for Little Folks 

1 B. E. Stevenson, editor. Published by Holt. 
" In The Crescent Moon, Alacmillan. 

241 



242 APPENDIX I 

Contents 

Rose's Broken Arm and Cut Head 1 

Rose at Breakfast and Her Birthday 7 

Rose's Birthday Presents 10 

Rose's Meeting Isabel 12 

Rose Playing with Mary 14 

Rose's Birthday Party and the Afternoon 16 

Isabel Asking to be Forgiven , 18 

Conversation between Isabel and Rose 19 

Getting Ready for the Party 20 

CHAPTER I 

ROSE MALAND STORIES 

Rose Maland's Broken Arm and Cut Forehead 

Rose Maland was a happy, good Httle girl. One day she was hav- 
ing a race with Isabel Chfford and Mary Parhne and Prudy Conro 
at school. One, two, three, go, said the teacher, and off they went 
like a flash of Hght. Isabel knew Rose would win. She was de- 
termined to win and get the prize. So, just as Rose was going to 
give a dash, Isabel put out her foot to trip her. Rose fell with a 
scream. She lay SENSELESS. 

The teacher bent over her pale, bleeding forehead. It was cut 
open. Miss Helen picked her up and carried her in school. The 
girls held up their hands in horror at the mean trick. Isabel, you 
are dismissed from school, said the angry teacher. Isabel sneaked 
in silence. The girls gave the cry of cheat. Rose lay in her little 
white bed a long time. The doctor worked busily over the broken 
arm and cut head. Rose's teacher came to see her and gave her 
lots of flowers. It was her birthday and the first day she got up and 
got dressed. The nurse had to hold her up because she was a little 
dizzy from being in bed two months. And still she had her arm in a 
sling and her head was still bandaged and was very sore. And 
when she was all dressed and ready to go downstairs it was a happy 
little girl that breakfast and I will tell in the next chapter. 

CHAPTER II 
Rose at Breakfast and Her Birthday 
Rose's nurse helped her get into her chair. Happy Birthday, 
Rose! said her father and mother. Rose tried to smile. She sat 



i 



APPENDIX I 243 

down; and oh, what a lot of presents for her! She opened one box 
and there was a ring. It was gold with an emerald in the middle 
with two pearls on each side and two diamonds on each side of the 
pearls, and two rubies on each side of the diamonds and between the 
rubies was a sapphire. 

She put it on her finger. Thank you, papa dear and mamma dear, 
she said. Next she opened another box, and there were four silk 
handkerchiefs embroidered with gold and pink embroidery and 
pearls around them. Dear me, said she, how pretty. Thank you. 
She opened another big box and there was a lady doll just like 
chisup (?). O who-o-o-o said Rose. Thank, thank you, dear, dear, 
dear papa, mamma. She opened another big box and that had a 
doll house just like chisey's (presumably she means Chesley's, this 
being the name of a friend of an older sister). And she opened 
another box and there was a Httle doll carriage. She opened an- 
other big box and there was a tricycle like Ernest's (another 
neighbor). 

CHAPTER III 

Rose's Birthday Presents 
Rose soon heard a bark and in bounded a great big Saint Bernard 
dog. Rose ran and put both Httle fat arms around the dog's neck. 
He licked her face and wagged his tail. I'll name him Hero, he's 
such a good doggy. Yes, and he's for you, dear, said her father. 
Then her mother took four Httle kitties and said. These too are for 
you, dear. Thank you mamma. Thank you, papa. And she 
kissed them both. And off she went to play in the garden, the 
first day she had been out. 

CHAPTER ini 

Rose's Meeting Isabel 
Rose met Isabel around the second turn of the garden. Isabel 
did not know what to say. But just as Isabel came, Mary came 
after her. She rushed to Rose and whispered, Isabel got a whitpen 
from her father. Rose whispered, Is she sorry or mad at me? She 
said she was mad and she told her ma and pa she was sorry, said 
Mary. Rose said, She tells Hes. Doesn't she? Mary said. Rose 
gave one glance at Isabel and then Mary and Rose both turned 
their backs on Isabel. Isabel went sulkily away. 



244 APPENDIX I 

CHAPTER V 
Playing with Mary 
Rose showed Mary her birthday presents and they played with 
the doll-house. Rose told Mary that her mother was making a 
beautiful cake with some white frosting and httle pink candies 
making Rose's name on the cake. It was an angel cake and it had 
in the center a lot of almonds, pink white yellow green violet 
brown orange red blue and a $ for the prize. I'm going to ^ have 
a lovely party tonight, said Rose, and I'm going to invite you and 
Isabel Prudy and Grace and Lilian, Betty Carolyn Ruth Anna 
and Ehzabeth, Zaner, Robert and Bod and Maxwell, Ernest Howard 
Edward, Dunceit and Duncan, the twins, Violet, Diana, Daner 
(mostly names or attempts at names of neighbors). 22 children 
and counting you. Rose, there'll be 23, murmured Mary. Yes, 
said Rose, there'll be 23 counting me. There's going to be a 
great big Christmas tree with lots of things on it tonight, said Rose. 
Good-by, Mary. 

CHAPTER 6 
Rose's Birthday Party and in the Afternoon 
Rose had just eaten her dinner when the door bell rang ding ding 
ding. Up jumped Rose and rushed to the door. She had thought 
it would be Mary come to play with her, but when she opened the 
door there stood Isabel with downcast eyes. I'm awfully sorry, 
Rose. 

CHAPTER 7 
Isabel Asking to be Forgiven 
Oh Isabel, I have forgiven you for a long time. Come in, please, 
come in. Yes I will. May I see your birthday presents? Here 
is my present for you. Thank you, dear Isabel. Rose opened the 
little bundle and there was — could you guess? — a gold watch with 
emeralds all over it. Thank you, thank you, dear Isabel. 

CHAPTER 8 
Conversation between Isabel and Rose 
After Isabel had looked at Rose's presents, she said, I guess I'll 
have to go home and get dressed for the party. So you will, and I 
will too. Isabel ran home with a light heart and a smiling face. 



APPENDIX I 245 

CHAPTER 9 
The Getting Ready for the Party 
Mrs. Maland was very busy getting ready for the party. She 
made a cake and bought some lovely ice cream. She made 
a beautiful salad and candies and cookies. She made the 
Christmas tree very beautiful with tinsel and other things. The 
room looked very beautiful when it was ready. She had new 
silk curtains with gold braid on them hung up before every door in 
the house and Christmas bells were tinkling all over the house. 

CHAPTER 10 
Rose Gets Ready for the Party 
Rose went up stairs and had a bath. Her mother put clean 
clothes for her, a lace petticoat with green ribbons running through 
it and hght green stockings and green shoes spangled with emeralds, 
a green silk dress with a white veil over it and gold beads spangle. 
There was a high room with blue wall paper and a silver moon on it 
and Httle gold stars. Rose had a green ribbon with gold beads on 
it and a green sash with green emeralds on it. Rose's curls were 
brushed. Rose wore a gold bracelet with 5 emeralds in it and a 
birthday ring and the watch Isabel had given her. She had gold 
heels on her shoes and a gold chain with emeralds on it. She had 
a emerald pendant too. 

CHAPTER 10 

Rose Greets Her Friends 

Go down and greet your friends to our party. Rose ran down to 

open the door. She had invited Mr. J. E. and all the children were 

crowding in. Tut, tut, said Rose, you must not crowd, or I won't 

know where to find you. 

CHAPTER 11 
The Party 
They all went to a big room and bobbed apples and played ever 
so many games and had a peanut hunt and such a lovely time. They 
did everything. 

CHAPTER 11 
Christmas Night 
That night when Rose went to bed she thanked her mamma very 
much. She then went to the fireplace and got a big stocking and 



246 APPENDIX I 

hung it up. Good night, mamma, she said. Good night, papa. 
And up stairs she went. 

CHAPTER 12 
Christmas Day and Christmas Morning 
About one o'clock in the morning Rose woke up and listened. 
What was that noise? Could it be Santa Claus? Yes, it was, 
she said to herseK, and she tucked herself up and waited to the 
first streak of fight came in the window. Up she jumped o\it of 
her bed. She went very quickly to the stairs, down one step, she 
peered into the dining room. Her stocking was chuck fuU of toys. 
She ran upstairs again and got dressed very quickly. Then up got 
Rose's mother and father and they were dressed quickly too, and down 
they went to the dining room. Rose dashed to the fireplace. She 
caUed her brother Kenneth downstairs. He heard her and he got 
dressed very quickly. Downstairs he went. They both sat down to 
open their stockings. Dear me, said Rose, as she pulled out a doll, 
a ball, a chain a ring a doll's chair and lots of other things. As for 
her brother, he and she were almost buried with their toys. When 
they had had a good look at the Christmas tree and had had their 
breakfast they played with their toys. Mary came over with her 
doU and Rose and Mary played doUs. Mary went home and pretty 
soon company came to dinner. Before dinner they had the Christ- 
mas presents. 

CHAPTER 12 
The Dinner 
For dinner they had turkey cranberry jelly, and pickles and 
squash and mashed potatoes and rasberry vinegar, and all kinds of 
nuts and raisens and lots and lots of Cristmas candy and lots of 
other kinds of candy. They had a great big Redfrosted cake and 
snow pudding and ice cream and pumkin pie. 

CHAPTER 13 
Hallowe'en Night 
It was Hallowe'en night. Oh mamma, said Rose, get my skull 
mask and my grey cloak. Her mother got her things on. But just 
as she put in the last pin, the door bell rang. She flew downstairs 
and opened the door. There stood a ghost. Rose, are you ready 
to come out with me? Yes, said Rose, I got my flash light. Out- 



APPENDIX I 247 

doors they scampered. Rose put her flash light into a room where a 
mother was putting her baby to bed. The lady screamed at the 
sight of the terrible face and light. But it only made the girls laugh 
and the baby squram. Rose and Mary go to a Hallowe'en party. 

CHAPTER 14 

Valentine's Day 
I got lots and lots of beautiful valentines, Mary, said Rose, pulling 
them out of her rosewood desk with the gold pen. I'm invited to a 
valentine party, said Rose, shaking her golden curls. But see all the 
pretty valentines. I'm going to give 30 of them, said Rose. I'm 
invited to the same party. 

CHAPTER 15 
They Go to the Valentine Party 
Rose and Mary started out to the party. Oh, but did they not 
have a lot of good times at the party. I had a lovely time at the 
party, Mrs. Clifford. 

CHAPTER 16 
Thanksgiving Day 

Thanksgiving Day came at last. Rose had on her white silk 
embroidered dress and a white silk ribbon some white silk stockings 
some white silk shoes. Pretty soon they all sat down to dinner. 
There were nuts raisens cranberry jelly pickles and the same kind 
of things they had to eat on Christmas. What a lovely dinner 
there was and how many Thanksgiving cards there were for Rose, 
Kenneth and Mary. It's a day, said Rose to her mother. Yes, dear, 
it was, said Mrs. Maland. 

CHAPTER 17 
Momrele (Memorial) Day Rose Sees the Soldiers March 
Mamma, I want a flag, a flag, said Rose, dancing about her 
mother. Here's one. Rose, said Mrs. Maland. Rose took the 
flag and went to see the solgers. Trum trum trum turmtetum 
teum trum. That's what the drums are saying, said Rose. What a 
lot of solgers there are. Let's follow them to the Mamorele (Me- 
morial) Hall. They got a lot of salted peanuts and a lot of pink 



248 APPENDIX I 

white corn on the way home they went to the park and saw the 
monkeys and had a ride on the merry-go-round. Next they had a 
real ride on some real ponies. In the afternoon they had a long ride. 

CHAPTER 18 
A School Day 
Ding ding ding went the school gong. Get in line, said Miss 
Ellen. Left left left right left ready march. When the children 
were all in their seats Miss Ellen read the sarm. Then they had 
the Lord's prayer. Then the morning song. In arithmetic Rose 
got 100 and in spelHng she got 100, and in all her work she got 100. 
At recess the teacher bathed Rose's head and put the bandage on to 
keep it from getting hot. She did not use her arm much at all. 

CHAPTER 19 
Summer Days for Happy Rose 
I'm going to the beach next week, said Rose, peeking out of the 
hammock. Are you going to any beach, Mary? said Rose. I 
don't know. Rose. I have been to England but on the way I was 
seasick, said Rose. Let's play with our lady dolls, Rose. Yes, we 
will play under that tree. So they played for such a long time that 
it was 5 o'clock when they stopped. Come in and have your supper 
now, dear, called Kenneth from the door. Mamma said you could 
go out after supper and stay out till 8 o'clock. 

CHAPTER 20 
The Terrible Thunder Storm 
Next day it rained so hard that Rose could not go out. In the 
afternoon it began to thunder. There was an awful crash that 
made Rose shiver and shake. It grew very black and the Hghtning 
was very bad. Rose saw two men get struck and 3 trees and 
one horse. 

CHAPTER 20 
The Hurricane . 
Next morning there was a terrebull wind. It was blowing up 
houses and tearing trees up by the roots. Rose was in Isabel's 
house when the house went flying way, way up in the air. Rose 
saw great waves upon the ocean. It was a real hurricane. 



APPENDIX I 249 

CHAPTER 21 

Rose at the Seaside 
Goodby, Isabel and Mary. I'm going to the beach now. When 
she got to the beach it was very warm. I want something to eat, 
Mamma dear, said Rose. You shall have it, dear. Can we go in 
bathing Ma? Yes, down the Httle road. They ran into the water. 
They splashed in it. Rose began to swim to the raft that was 
rocking on the blue waves. When she got to the raft she dived 
off and swam under water. When she came up she floated on the 
water. 

CHAPTER 22 
Rose Going Down in the Ocean with the Diver and sees 
Great and Wonderful Things 
Rose was going down in the ocean with a diver. They take their 
Hghts and down they dive for a long distance. Rose put her hand 
out and felt the sand. She looked around and saw some coral and 
pearls. She took a lot of sea gems and went along with the diver. 
Soon she saw a huge shark. She clung to the diver. Then she saw 
a gigantic cuttle fish, its goggle eyes staring everywhere. Then she 
saw a whale. She saw so many wonderful things I could not tell 
you all of them. Pretty soon they went up out of the water and 
Rose's clothes were not wet. 

CHAPTER 23 

Rose Comes Home from the Beach 

Today I'm going home, said Rose. On the train Rose's mother 

bought her a bannaner. When she got to the place to get out there 

were Mary and Isabel waiting with their fathers. We were waiting 

for you, Rose. Rose was so happ3^ she could not speak. 

CHAPTER 24 
Spring Time Hunting for Flowers 
Mamma, take us to walk. We must get our flowers for our May 
baskets. The children came home loaded with violets, blueits, 
ennemones, star flowers and ferns. These will be beautiful for our 
May baskets. Rose arranged her flowers in a bowl so they would 
not fade. 



250 APPENDIX I 

CHAPTER 25 
Making May Baskets 
My May baskets are all done. Are they not pretty? said Rose. 
Yes, said Mary and Isabel together. Rose put her May baskets on 
the table. 

CHAPTER 26 
May Day and May Night 
Rose arranged her flowers in the May baskets and put lots and 
lots of candy in them. Look, look, how pretty they do look, said 
Rose, as she put them in a big basket. She rang all the door bells. 
She got 30 May baskets. 

CHAPTER 27 
Winter and Rose Goes Skating 
Rose fastened on her skates and flew around on the ice. She slid 
on the ice in her sled. What a lovely time she had skating and 
coasting. 

CHAPTER 28 

Easter 
I got 30 Easter eggs and lots of Bunnys and chickens, said Rose 
and I got a hat. How many eggs have you eaten? I have eaten 
10 easter eggs, said Rose. I'm going over to Mary's house and 
show her my Easter presents. 

CHAPTER 29 

The Gypsees Steal Rose and Mary 
Rose and Mary were walking along on a Uttle lonesome road 
when something got in their feet. Mary looked around and at once 
saw that they were in a gypsees camp. A man jumped out of the 
bushes and picked up both children and ran at a great pace. Rose 
screamed and Mary yelled. At last the man stopped before a dirty 
camp. He put Rose and Mary in the camp. An old gypsee wanted 
to tell Rose's fortune but Rose would not let her. Just then Rose's 
father came in. [He picked up Rose and Mary and took them 
home. 



APPENDIX I 251 

CHAPTER 30 

Sunday 
It was Sunday and the children had to go to church. After 
church the children sat in chairs thinking about the years that had 
come and gone while Rose was melting away from the ears of men. 

The End 

This story, exhibiting so clearly the idealizing power 
of a child, as well as her feeUng for what she thought was 
the proper substance and form of a story, was only one 
of a series. The Second Book is about many interesting 
and mysterious experiences, such as ''The Secret 
Drawer,'' '' The Little Door in the Attic,'' '' The Buried 
Place," '' Rose Finds a Mystery," '' The Flood," '' Rose 
Gets Lost." Some of the ideas are from a story by 
Kenneth Graham, for which due acknowledgment is 
made by the young author! The Third Book is about 
Rose at the Beach, and was written a year or so after the 
first story. The child had been to the beach several 
times, and had had one or two boat trips, but the Baha- 
mas and Florida are fiction, so far as the author's own 
experience is concerned. So is the brother. 

ROSE MARLAND AT THE BEACH . 

And the End Tells where she Comes Home the 
Day before Christmas 

THIRD BOOK 
Contents 

Rose Goes to the Beach 1 

Brother to the Rescue 3 

Florida 4 



252 APPENDIX I 

Rose Marland Goes to the Beach 
Rose was so excited over going to the beach that she did not notice 
where she was going and sat down in a bowl of water. Old Mammy 
Blue got her up instantly and changed her clothes. Rose stayed 
home most all the time in winter, and she was going to Florida 
this winter. This was the morning to start. Tickets had been 
gotten, trunks packed and nothing forgotten. Rose thought her 
brother a nice boy to pull off her ribbon the very minute they were 
to start. Well, all the Marlands were at last ready to go, aild they 
went aboard the big steamer. Mother had a Httle stateroom all to 
herself, and Rose and her brother had a httle stateroom aM by them- 
selves, so they were all right. Come on let's go out on deck and see 
what it's like. Rose, whispered her brother. All right. Rose opened 
the door to their stateroom and they went out on the deck. It was 
a beautiful day, every minute getting hotter. We are going to have 
a terrible storm at sea, shouted the captain. Rose and her brother 
started for the cabin, but it was too late. 

Brother to the Rescue 
The boat that moment pitched forward and Rose was swung 
head first over the bow of the boat. Evrybody saw her. She disap- 
peared for a moment under the waves, but a big wave raised her 
way up. Her brother who had been in a corner holding fast to the 
rail came forward in a bathing suit, and before any one could stop 
him he dived off the railing and vanished. Evryone was breathless 
until Kenneth appeared holding Rose in his arms. The stewards 
lowered some ropes and Kenneth cHmbed up. For brave, shouted 
the people. Is he all right? whispered Rose as she came too. Get 
the boat surgeon and we'll see if both of you are all right. Send a 
sailor. The boat surgeon was found in the dining salloone under a 
wreckage of tables, chairs, etc. He was soon brought out. When 
the captain appeared. Thank God, he said, that they came safely 
threw, and, said he, addressing the people, we are now at the wharf 
at Florida. Three cheers, said the sailors, once more remembering 
Kenneth. Three cheers, for he's a born sailor. 

Florida 
At last the Marlands were safely on shore, and the ship, I'm sorry 
to say, the ship's chain busted, as the sailors called it, and the ship 



APPENDIX I 253 

got away, and you could jest see the top of ther ship, said the old 
captain. The stormy day ended, Rose and Kenneth were snug in 
bed. Next day dawned and Rose was out in the garden. . . . 

The story proceeds in similar vein for several 
chapters. 

PART II 

INCIDENTS FROM CHILD LIFE 

Children do and say many reveahng things. The 
literature of child study contains much concrete ma- 
terial that might well be accumulated and classified for 
fresh study. Illustrations of these valuable data, to- 
gether with some unpublished material that has come to 
the writer's hand, are printed below. These incidents 
are numbered for convenience of reference, and are 
roughly classified by age. Teachers will do well to 
famiUarize themselves with the illustrations and to use 
them as occasion offers. Some of the stories are defec- 
tive for accurate study on account of the absence of 
detail concerning the circumstances or situations. These 
can be used, however, to give insight into the possibiH- 
ties of behavior, and are therefore included. 

In reading the incidents attention should be given to 
what the child actually says or does, and to the situa- 
tion, so far as it is given, in which he says and does it. 
His age and sex should be carefully noted, together with 
any comments that may be made concerning his family 
or temperament. Care should be taken not to generahze 
too hastily from such fragmentary data as are given. 
We are just looking at children, individual children. 
The reader should, however, try to state for himself any 
general principle or law he already knows which is 



254 APPENDIX I 

illustrated or coniBrmed by each incident, or some preju- 
dice concerning children that the incident throws doubt 
upon. What does Case 4 suggest concerning children's 
pranks and their treatment? What idea of God will 
be natural to children of four if they spontaneously be- 
have as described in Case 12? What capacity for self- 
judgment or at least for making a discriminating .com- 
parison between conduct and a standard is found in a 
child under three in Case 2? Can children under two 
exercise self-control? In Case 1, one such child seems to 
have been able to do so. And so on. 

1. Boy. Sixteen months. Had been warned by mother not to 
touch table legs thus, when he attempted to do so: ''No, no. 
Mustn't touch," with cautioning gesture. Had not been punished 
for doing so. Was observed when alone to start for the table legs 
on hands and knees, and then suddenly to stop, sit up, look at the 
legs in an eager yet puzzled way, develop an expression as though 
about to cry, making incipient motions toward the table, yet not 
moving toward it. Finally, brightened up and went off in another 
direction. 

2. Girl. Two years, ten months. A little girl was being taught 
by her mother to " say her prayers.'' Following the mother's 
dictation, she repeated: " Thank you (God) for making me a good 
girl today." Then she looked up and said: '' But I cried." (She 
had been an exceptionally good girl with the exception of the one 
cry because her supper wasn't ready as soon as she wanted it.) 

3. Boy. Three years. On a motor trip a small campfire was 
made. He did not like it at all. '' The fire isn't in the grate, and it 
might run away," he said. 

4. Boy. Three years. " The minister's little three-year-old 
had a beautiful head of golden curls, and thick bangs that hung over 
his waxy forehead down to his eyebrows. This lovely head was real 
gold to the proud mother, and quite as much to the father, whose 
bald head set a high estimate on a fine crop of hair. 



APPENDIX I 255 

" One day the child was left in a darkened room to take his mid- 
day nap, as usual. In due time his mother moved quietly into the 
boy's room, supposing him to be asleep. But the httle fellow, seeing 
her shadowy form, called out, * Here, Mamma! Here's some hair! ' 
Sit the same time holding up a handful of yellow locks. 

'^ The shocked mother instantly saw the situation. A pair of 
scissors had been left on the bed, and the boy had dihgently appHed 
them quite close to the cranium. 

" The mother held no fireside court, but called the act by the name 
that seemed, on hasty judgment, to fit it best, and deUvered her 
opinion of the moral aspect of the deed with an immediate paddling. 

'^ Her custom seems to have been the commoner one of condemn- 
ing and punishing first and then interrogating afterwards. The 
criminal's trial follows his punishment in such case. So the mother 
took the boy on her knee and said, ^ Little son, what made you do 
that? ' 

^^ The beautiful Hps trembled, the great, glorious eyes overflowed 
with tears, and with convulsive sobs the child answered, ' Mamma, 
I was tryiag to look like papa.' " ^ 

5. Boy. Three years. He is such a comrade we almost forget 
he is stiU an infant, only three years old. He likes best to work 
with his father with real tools, in the shop. He constantly devises 
new games, and his imagination enables him to impersonate any 
animal. His morning stunt now is to play he is the eagle and swoop 
down and carry off my baby (my hair brush) from under the hay 
cock, and fly with it to his nest in the mountain (his daddy's bed). 
Then I run screaming up the mountain and rescue it. He runs across 
both our beds, and around the window seat, so he has quite a flight. 
This game is repeated from the time he awakens until M. is ready 
to dress him. 

6. Boy. Three and a haK years. Here is something from the 
boy; it represents a tough nut to crack, I think. One evening, at 
dinner he was discarding from his plate several crusts of bread which 
were perfectly good; M. thinking to persuade him to eat them, 
said, '^ There are lots of hungry httle boys in the world who 
would be glad to get those nice crusts." I added, to impress him 
more strongly, that some httle boys were so hungry they would be 

1 Patterson Du Bois, Fireside Child Study. Copyright, 1903, Dodd, Mead & Co. 



256 APPENDIX I 

glad to pick the crusts out of the ash box and eat them. He seemed 
to be greatly interested and his eyes were wide open in astonish- 
ment. After a moment, in a half tearful, half impatient voice, he 
said: '* O dear! why doesn't our heavenly Father give those Uttle 
boys something to eat? '* We of course were rather startled at his 
remark, and noticing our faces he added: " But he gives me my food 
doesn't he? " 

7. Boy. Three and a half years. Seeing his mother dress to 
go out my nephew, who is three and a half years old, asked her 
where she was going. She told him she was going to see Miss W. 
*' Why? '' he asked. '^ Because she is ill,'' his mother answered. 
After a moment he said, " Don't you want to take something to 
her, mother? " Of course she did. So he went to his play room, 
brought back a cherished toy and wrapped it up for the invahd. 

8. Girl. Three and a half years. The parents of a Httle girl of 
three and a haK years had forbidden her to have any chocolate 
candy for a limited time on account of an unhealthy condition of 
her blood. She was out visiting friends and in the absence of her 
parents was offered some of the forbidden sweets. She looked long- 
ingly at the tempting dish, but repHed, '^ I mayn't eat candy." 
On returning home she told her mother of the incident with ap- 
parent seK-satisf action, adding, " Some children would have just 
taken it anyhow." I might have added that the temptation was 
augmented by the little son of the hostess who was present and said 
to the Httle girl when she refused the candy, " But your daddy isn't 
here now." 

9. Boy. Three and a haK years. It took place last Christmas 
Day. The child, a boy three and a haK years old, had been longing 
for the possession of a particular kind of toy, which he got on that 
day. His happiness seemed to increase in intensity as the hours 
went by. He pleaded to be allowed to hold it all the time, also 
during meals; for the rest of the day he neglected the company of 
friends who were most dear to him, in order to play with, and enjoy, 
his new toy. He wanted to take the toy to bed when time came to 
retire; after almost a struggle, he was granted the permission to do 
so. He put the toy inside the night-dress, so as to be sure to have 
it, holding his hand over it on the outside of the garment. When his 



APPENDIX I 257 

mother knelt beside his cot to hear him say his prayers, he turned 
to her and asked that she hold the toy while he thanked Jesus for it. 

10. Girl. Four years. " One day I noticed that a httle girl 
who was very self-willed was sewing the card given her in an irregular 
and disorderly manner. ' Oh, Ehzabeth! ' I exclaimed, ^ you are 
not doing that right! Come here and let me show you how to do it.' 
^ No,' answered the child in a seK-satisfied tone, * Ehzabeth likes it 
this way.' I saw that I must appeal to the pubhc opinion of the 
table of babies about her in order that I might lead her to voluntarily 
undo the work. So I asked her to show the card to the other chil- 
dren. As is usually the case, pubhc opinion decided in the right, and 
the children said they did not like it. ' But Elizabeth likes it,' 
persisted the child. ^ It's Ehzabeth's card, and she is going to make 
it this way.' I saw that the httle community of her own equals 
had not sufficient weight to influence her, and from her manner I 
knew that it was mere caprice on her part. So I said, ^ Come with 
me and we will go over to brother's table and see what they think of 
it.' We held the card up before the next older children, and I said 
pleasantly, ^ Children, what do you think of this card? ' ^ It is 
wrong,' they exclaimed, * The soldiers ' (meaning the vertical lines) 
* are aU tumbling down.' By this time the public opinion of our 
httle community had begun to have an effect, and the child turned 
to me and exclaimed, ' It is a bad, nasty card, and Ehzabeth will 
throw it into the fire,' starting at the same time toward the open 
grate in the room. ^ Oh, no, my dear,' I exclaimed, ' let's go over 
to the table where the big children are. Perhaps they can teU us 
something to do with it.' With that we walked across the room to 
the table at which my older and better-trained children were at 
work. After praising the forms which they were making with their 
sticks, in order to arouse within the child's mind a still higher ap- 
preciation of their judgment, I said, ' Our little Ehzabeth has a card 
she wants to show you and see if any of you can tell her what to do 
with it.' The card was held up, somewhat imwillingly this time, 
and the children without hesitation said, ^ She must take out the 
crooked stitches and put them in straight.' The oldest boy at the 
table added, 'Come here, Elizabeth; I'll show you how to do it.' 
With that her little chair was drawn up beside his larger one, and for 
ten minutes the two patiently worked over the tangled card. At 
the end of that time Ehzabeth brought the card to me and in tri- 



258 APPENDIX I 

umphant delight exclaimed, ^ Now everybody will say that Eliza- 
beth's card is pretty!' I had no further trouble with the child in 
this particular direction of taking out work when wrongly done. 
This, of course, would not be the right method of deahng with a very 
sensitive child. The story shows the need of increasing the standard 
of judgment by which the child is to be measured, in proportion to 
the child's estimate of the work and value of his own opinions." ^ 

11. Boy. Age ? Mrs. McD. was a nurse and spent most 
of her time away from home. Her husband was a " n,o-good '' 
and had left her. The four-year-old little boy, Kendall, one day 
ran in front of the street-car, and lost one arm up to the elbow and 
from the hand of the other were torn all but one finger; he would be 
a great charge. 

But her step-son, Gordon, offered to take care of Kendall in every 
way he could that his step-mother might not have to discontinue her 
nursing. And day after day he played with the maimed, peevish 
child, got books from the library and read to him and stayed home 
from play with other boys whenever he was needed. 

12. Girl. Four and a hah years. Margaret, a little girl four and 
a half years old, was sitting in a rocking chair in front of a window, 
persevering with some crocheting which she wanted to do because I 
was doing it. Her mother and I were busy about our work in the 
same room. After an hour or two of silence she suddenly said, ^^ My 
back is hot," for the sun had come around to that window. 

^^ What will you move, Margaret, the chair or the sun? " her 
mother asked. 

" The chair," was the decided answer. Thereupon my curiosity 
was aroused and I asked, " Why didn't you have the sun move, 
Margaret dear? " 

She answered, '' But God does that." Without one word she 
bowed her head and prayed, ^' Please, dear God, will you move 
the sun for me? " 

13. Boy. Four years, eight months. I will note down the items 
of the boy's adjustment between the real and the imaginative. 
He seems to be very clear about the difference. This morning he 
asked me if God was real, or a fairy. I had so often told him that 

1 From A Study of Child Nature, copyright, 1890, by Elizabeth Harrison. Pub- 
lished by the National Kindergarten and Elementary College. 



APPENDIX I 259 

the gods in the stories of the myths were fairies, that he wanted to 
be sure about the heavenly Father. He often asks, regarding habits 
of animals, whether it is real, or a story. M. is puzzled by his relat- 
ing things to her which he knows are not true, and so does she. 
He says then that they are stories. To her they are lies. He clearly 
understands the difference between fact and fancy, but has not 
always grasped when he should tell only the facts. I can see daily 
signs of a better understanding. He often adds, '' That is not really 
true, it is only a story, Mother," with a questioning look. His 
present interest is divided between a most fanciful Santa Claus 
book, and The Tree Dwellers, by Dopp, of Chicago. He Hkes to 
take trips on maps, and soon will understand this better. 

14. Boy. Four and a half years. His father brought him a small 
electric cell, with buzzer and push-button. He disconnects every- 
thing, and reconnects them, with unending joy. He is learning 
many simple truths about electricity. The spark dehghts him. 
All physical phenomena interest him. He weaves these facts into 
new games. At first he had a bell instead of a buzzer. He made 
this into a fire alarm, gave a toy auto to his two playmates, and 
all rushed to put out the fire. This game lasted a long time, with 
exciting variations. 

Last Christmas the lad invented a play with the star of Bethle- 
hem. We were seated in the Hving room with some guests. He 
had me light a candle upon the table, and turn out the other Ught. 
This was the sun. He brought in an apple for the moon. Then he 
blew out the hght arid announced that he was God, and would bring 
in the star. He carried in a contraption, made of sticks of wood 
nailed across each other, and as tall as he. After marching around 
the table, the star was taken to the reception hall, the candle lighted, 
and the game was over. He explained that stars were really bigger 
than the sun; his mother had said so. You can imagine our feehngs 
when he announced that he was God, and would now bring in the 
star! He is interested in savages, and the Geographic Magazine 
suits his fancy. He asks often if the pictures are real, or fairy. 

15. Girl. Five years. A little girl, on her way from school, 
ran across a neighbor's lawn. As the child passed a bed of chrysan- 
themums, she paused before one particularly beautiful one. Her 
body bent sHghtly, her right hand was raised a little and she seemed 



260 APPENDIX I 

to be about to seize the flower. Suddenly the child clasped her 
hand behind her and ran to her home. 

16. Girl. Five years. The child about whom this incident 
was told was a Httle girl of about five years of age. The older 
sister, Mary, who was keeping house in the home concerned, was not 
feeling well on the day when the Httle girl felt she ought to do some- 
thing to help. In fact Mary had a severe headache. The baby 
sister noticed this, and going up to Mary, she cUmbed on her lap, 
and said, '^ Mary's sick, and Httle Freda wants to help her, what 
can she do? '' The dinner dishes had not been washed, and Httle 
Freda, seeing this, ran and began washing the dishes in her own way. 
Mary was not so sick but that she could work when it was very 
necessary, so she went and together Mary and Freda washed the 
dishes. 

17. Girl. Five years. EHzabeth aged seven and Josephine 
aged five attended the Beginner's Class in the church school. 

The time had come for EHzabeth's promotion, but as she went to 
join her class Josephine wept vociferously. Attempts to quiet her 
were unavaiHng and the expected promotion was deferred for the 
sake of the other children. 

The Sunday foUowing, however, the teacher said that EHzabeth 
must not be kept back on account of her sister. Josephine wept 
bitterly for a while, but finally became interested in her class work. 
At the close of the session she promised to be a good girl in the future. 

The third Sunday each sister took her appointed place at the be- 
ginning of the school. 

Little Josephine's face was a study. She was undoubtedly labor- 
ing under a temporary nervous strain, but trying with all her might 
not to cry. She conquered herself. The result was shown most 
amusingly at the next session by the maturely independent manner 
in which she took her place. 

18. Boy. Five years. " ' Mamma, mamma! ' called Httle Henry 
from his bed upstairs to his mother, who was reading to father in 
the hall below, ^ Please come up and stay with me.' 

^* This was an unusual request, as Henry had, since his fifth birth- 
day three months before, talked or sung himself to sleep, con- 
tented with the thought that mother and father were within calling 
distance. 



APPENDIX I 261 

" ' No, my darling/ said mamma; ' I camiot come up. But 
father and mother will be right here/ But this assurance did not 
satisfy, and again the request came, this time more urgent than be- 
fore, ' Please, mamma, come. I'm afraid to stay by myseK.' 

" This tone indicated distress, which must not be despised, 
but recognized, and reasonably dealt with. ' Go to sleep, my Httle 
boy,' said father; * Jesus will take care of you. You know he 
watches over all the children while they sleep.' 

'^ This seemed to have the desired effect, and for a few minutes all 
was quiet upstairs. But the composure was only outward; the 
trouble within had not been allayed. The Httle heart was not yet 
satisfied, for the silence was soon broken by a plaintive voice, which 
asked, ' Papa, does Jesus take care of bad boys? ' 

" What prompted this question? Why should he ask it tonight, 
when all day long he had been cheerful, patient and obedient? 
Neither mother nor father could remember any word or act of the 
day to make specially appropriate tonight this imphed classification 
of himseK with bad boys. But the question must be answered with- 
out waiting to inquire why it should be asked at this particular time. 
To endeavor to use it as a lever to pry open the heart of the child 
would be to take an unfair advantage and might lead him next time to 
keep his thoughts and fears to himseK. 

^' These reflections were the rapid work of a moment, for delay 
in the answer might suggest doubt of its truth. So, without at- 
tempting to follow the lead of his question, I promptly repHed, ' Yes 
Henry; Jesus takes care of bad boys too. He loves them, and is 
sorry they are bad; and if they are sorry and want to be good, he'll 
help them to do right.' 

'^ A few moments of silence, and then, ' I want to be good,' came 
back from the Httle room upstairs. There were no more calls for 
mother, and ten minutes later, when I had occasion to go up for 
something, he was sleeping the quiet sleep of the just. 

** Next morning, as we finished breakfast, Henry asked, * Mamma, 
may I have the rest of my candy now? ' Some one had given him 
four chocolate drops the day before, two of which he was allowed 
to eat after dinner, the remaining two being put away in the side- 
board to be eaten next day. 

" As I arose to get them for him, Henry said, in that quizzical 
tone which in the fulness of its suggestiveness is an inimitable 



262 APPENDIX I 

characteristic of childhood, * I ^spec' the rats have been eating my 
candy/ As I took up the saucer which held them, I noticed on 
each of the chocolate drops the prints of two Uttle teeth, which had 
just scraped the brown surface, and left their marks on the creamy 
white within. They were not rats' teeth, but evidently those of a 
Httle human sinner. ^ Yes,' said I, as I stooped to kiss the sinner on 
the cheek, * and here's the rat that did it. This is the rat that ate the 
malt that lay in the house that Jack built.' This led to a frank 
confession that late in the afternoon he had chmbed on a chair' and 
taken out the candy ^ just to see if it tasted like the other.' 

^^ My silent questions of the night before were answered, though 
I did not tell him that I had either asked those questions or found 
their answer." ^ 

19. Boy. Five and a haK years. Edward, aged five and a haK 
years, " says his prayers " kneeling in his bed beside his mother, but 
gets down on his knees beside his bed to " pray " when he wants to 
ask any special gift or favor. The night before the Fourth of July, 
having heard his father remark that it would probably rain, as there 
had been a dull sunset, Edward knelt by his bed and prayed: *' God, 
keep your bad sunset till a day when Bobby and I want to play with 
our trains." Then he called to assure his father that it wouldn't 
rain because he had asked God not to let it rain. And the next day 
was clear. 

Some day when Edward's '^ prayer " is not so satisfactorily and 
immediately answered there will be opportunity for another lesson 
in his rehgious training! 

20. Girl. Six years. '^ Many a mother thoughtlessly says to her 
child, * Be good to httle brother while I am gone, and I will buy you 
some candy.' ^ Give that to Httle sister, and I will give you some- 
thing better.' SeK-control must not, in this way, be connected in 
the child's mind with gratification of physical appetite, nor can the 
child learn the sweet joy of unselfishness through the feeding of his 
greed of possession. I once discovered that a httle girl in a primary 
class had written her spelling lesson upon the wrong side of the hem 
of her linen apron. Upon my afterwards showing her the dishonesty 
of the deed, she burst into tears and sobbed out, * I couldn't help it; 

1 Quoted from the Sunday School Times, by Patterson Du Bois in Fireside Child 
Study, copyright, 1903, by Dodd, Mead & Co. Du Bois' own comments on this 
story are important. 



APPENDIX I 263 

I couldn't help it. Papa promised me a diamond ring if I wouldn't 
miss in my spelling this year.' The desire to obtain the coveted 
jewel was so great that the bounds of honesty and integrity had been 
overstepped. I once knew a church-school superintendent to say, 
'Everybody who comes early for a month shall have a present.' 
Doubtless, punctuality was obtained, but at the price of moral 
degradation. Another illustration in the childhood of a woman 
shall be told in her own words: 'Once when I was a little girl,' 
she said, ' our parents had left my older sister and myself alone for 
the evening. Getting sleepy, we went into our mother's bedroom, 
and chmbing upon the bed drew a shawl over us, preparatory to a 
nap before their return. In a httle while my sister complained of 
feeling cold. With the loving impulse of a generous child, I gave 
her my part of the shawl; with a real pleasure I spread it over her, 
and we were soon asleep. Upon the return of our parents, the ques- 
tion was asked w^hy my sister had all the covering while I had none. 
Innocently enough, explanation was made in the words, ' She was 
colder than I, so I gave her my part.' ' You dear, blessed, imselfish 
little thing! ' exclaimed my father, ' here's ten cents for you to reward 
you for your unselfishness.' A few evenings after, our parents were 
again invited out, and again we children were left alone in our part 
of the house. I began at once planning a scheme to coax my sister 
to again go into our mother's bedroom for a nap in order that I 
might repeat the deed which had earned me ten cents. I succeeded, 
although this time it was with some coaxing that I got her to accept 
the extra portion of the covering. For nearly an hour I lay waiting 
for the return of my father, in order that I might gain financial 
profit by my conduct. Thus easily and quickly the sweet, generous 
unselfish impulse of a childish heart was changed by the mere thought 
of material gain into sordid, selfish and deceptive conduct." ^ 

21. Girl. Six years old. My niece who was staying with me 
annoyed me greatly by visiting children whose home was very dirty. 
I first forbade her going without giving any reason. Then I talked 
with her saying that I feared she would get ill. She hstened quietly 
until I finished. Then in emphatic tones that expressed surprise at 
my Hmited knowledge, she said, " Why auntie you don't under- 
stand, I shan't get sick. I'm clean and don't you see, nobody goes 

1 From A Study of Child Nature, copyright, 1890, by Elizabeth Harrison. Pub- 
lished by the National Kindergarten and Elementary College. 



264 APPENDIX I 

to see them and I must." I said nothing but thought much and 
finally decided to invite those children to play in my garden. I 
must add that they came clean. 

I reahze that many elements enter and various explanations may 
be given but as my niece spoke to me I firmly beHeve that she had 
a feeling of sympathy for those children. She was six years old. 
She was not generally disobedient and was a very affectionate child. 

22. Boy. Six years. John's playmate, Robert, had been seri- 
ously ill. When Robert was convalescent, John, who was six 
years old, was allowed to go to see him accompanied by his mother. 
John's mother noted his preoccupation during the morning and 
could account for it later when they were about to start to see 
Robert, for John had his beloved toy horse wrapped clumsily in 
paper under his arm and upon his mother's inquiry he said it was to 
be Robert's now. 

23. Boy. Seven years. A country boy of seven lived a mile 
from the post-office and it was his duty to go for the mail each 
evening at seven o'clock. On one evening he learned that there 
was to be a free Victrola concert in the school building near the 
post-office at 7.30. He would not have time to go home to get 
permission to stay for the concert and he knew that if he stayed later 
than usual his parents would worry about him. He wanted very 
much to hear the Victrola because he had only heard one in his life 
before and there were very few opportunities in his community for 
that kind of entertainment. He finally decided to miss this op- 
portunity and go home as usual. 

24. Boy. Seven years. He was asked by a neighbor's child to 
help put in kindling. His friend said: *' Mother will give us some 
pennies for doing this." The boy rephed, " Sure I'll help, but I 
don't want any pennies. I don't think Mr. Hale would want me 
to take them." This followed the celebration of Edward Everett 
Hale Day at the church school. 

25. Boy. Nine years. To illustrate from my own experience 
when about nine years of age. In connection with a lesson about 
John the Baptist, we had a beautiful large chart picture of the child 
John scantily clad in rough shepherd's attire with a beautiful lamb 
at his side. The result on me was that I wanted to look hke the 
picture and have a lamb like that. It affected my brother in the 



APPENDIX I 265 

same way. Frequently large herds of sheep passed our house and 
we invariably used to go out and beg a lamb and finally bought 
one which caused no small amount of trouble. I also remember 
a picture of David with his sling that led to bad results. The 
objects of the lessons in those cases were not attained; they were 
rather defeated. 

26. Boy. Nine years. Boy of nine asked by mother to go on 
errand. Mother didn^t want to ask, as boy was about to go to 
play ball. " It would be a great help to me.^' *' Sure I'll go," he 
said . At night mother offered him a piece of money, but he wouldn't 
take it. He said he had heard a story at school that made him feel 
he ought to do his share at home. (The story was ^' What Bradley 
Owed " in Children's Story Sermons^ by H. T. Kerr.) 

27. Boy. Nine years. A boy of about nine while playing with 
his boy companions was asked by them to come along to a small 
creek some distance away, to which he had been forbidden to go by 
his parents. He would not let himseK be persuaded. To silence 
his friends he asked them in a somewhat self-righteous way if they 
did not remember the golden text of last Sunday's lesson: '* My 
son, if sinners entice thee consent thou not ! " 

28. Girls. Ten to twelve years. Answers to questions in a game 
of Bible Characters: 

Adam, — First man. God put Adam and Eve in the Garden of 
Eden, and in that garden was a magic tree which God told them not 
to touch. The devil tempted them and they ate of the tree. Then 
God drove them out of the garden and they starved to death. 

Abraham. — He was very poor and only had three books when 
he was a boy. (Lincoln.) 

— Father of the Jews. 

Moses. — He was a baby. Were he and Jesus the same? (Child 
nine years old.) 

Joshua. — The man who wouldn't let the king kill all the baby 
boys. 

Ahob. — A king of Israel who had Jezebel for a wife. She wor- 
shiped idols. 

He ruled the country but she ruled the king. 

Jesus. — Jesus was a Jew until they crucified him, then he rose 
from the dead a Christian. 



266 APPENDIX I 

29. Boy. Twelve years. As I was walking through a crowded 
business street down-town, I noticed a Httle pony that was harnessed 
to a Httle cart. The pony was in danger of being hurt or perhaps 
killed. Then just as quick as a flash a boy about the age of twelve, 
at the risk of his own life, darted out between the wagons and auto- 
mobiles, threw his arm around the pony^s neck and brought him 
safely to the edge of the curb. The Httle boy then turned to his 
companions and said, " Those greedy feUows wouldn't care if they 
kiUed the poor Httle horse.'' He stayed with the pony imtil he 
was sure of his being safe and out of danger. 

30. Boy. Twelve years. Scene: A Boys' Camp (a reHgious 
organization); athletic field; championship events; 100 yard dash 
for championship among younger boys. 

Situation: W. T. age 12, recognized as best runner; entered with 
seven boys, eleven to fourteen years. 

The starter lined boys on the mark and commanded: " On your 
mark; get set; go! " 

W. T. got an " early " start, ran about three yards, was ahead 
of other boys, then slowed down. The other boys passed him and 
finished the race. He dropped out and passed through the crowd 
of witnesses. 

The starter noticed aU, and asked W. T., " What is the matter? 
Why did you stop? " W. T. answered: '^ I beHeve my start was a 
* steal ' and I couldn't run; God wouldn't like it." 

Not&: W. T. lost the championship. 

31. Boy. Sixteen years. Tony, sixteen years old, was captain 
and catcher for one of the camp clubs. His team was playing the 
final and deciding game for the championship. The inning was the 
last of the ninth; two men were out; second and third were occupied, 
and Louis the best batter of the other team was " up." According 
to the common ethics of the game, the play was to deHberately walk 
him; especially in this game as he had hit safely on his previous trips 
to the plate. The pitcher wished to throw four wide balls, but Tony 
ordered him to try to put Louis out, although he reahzed the game 
himg on the play. 

Louis knocked a two bagger which brought over the plate the 
ying and winning runs. 



APPENDIX I 267 

By this act, done in the full reahzation of the consequences, Tony 
had striven with his best to show a higher form of sportsmanship. 

32. Girl. Age ? A young girl once rushed into a burning room 
in order to save a pet of hers. Upon being told of the folly and 
danger of such an act, she stated that it was a sin to be cruel to 
dumb animals, and that she thought it very cruel to allow the 
animals to be roasted. 

33. Boy. Age ? A certain boy had been looking forward with 
eagerness to a game of ball in which he was to participate. His 
younger sister had for days been much distressed over the loss of a 
pet kitten. 

The afternoon on which the great game was to come off the lad 
heard that a stray kitten had been seen quite a distance from his 
home. He knew that if he went to this part of town to find out 
whether or no the kitten was the one belonging to his sister he could 
not return in time for the ball game. Nevertheless he started off, 
and late that afternoon returned bringing in his arms his sister's pet. 



APPENDIX II 

BiBLIOGKAPHY 

For convenience of reference, the books mentioned in the text, 
together with others that will be of use for further study of problems 
raised in the several chapters, are Hsted below, with the names of the 
publishers. The first five sections include books of general interest 
in the field of child psychology. In Section 6 the books are Hsted 
by problems, following the arrangement of the chapters of the text. 



Books that deal with the problem of method in the study of 
children: 

1 King, Irving. — The Psychology of Child Development^ Uni- 

versity of Chicago Press. 

2 Thorndike, E, L. — Notes on Child Study, Teachers College 

Columbia University. 

3 McMannis, J. T. — The Study of the Behavior of an Individual 

Child, Warwick and York. 



Books that deal with fundamental facts of behavior and growth : 

4 Judd, C. H. — Genetic Psychology for Teachers, Appletons. 

5 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — Fundamentals of Child Study ^ Edition of 

1917, Macmillan. Topically arranged. 

6 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — The Individual in the Making, Houghton 

Mifflin. Arranged by stages of growth. Full of excellent 
concrete material, and dealing with the child as a growing 
social being. 

7 Sully, James. — Studies of Childhood, Appletons. Contains 

'*A Father's Diary." Children's Ways, Appletons. A briefer 
form of the above. Both are rich in concrete material. 

8 Tanner, A. E. — The Child, His Thinking, Feeling and Doing, 

268 



I 



APPENDIX II 269 

Rand, McNally. Valuable compendium of information on 
many topics. Extensive bibliographies. 
9 Norsworthy and Whitley. — Psychology of Childhood, Macmil- 
lan. Comprehensive study giving considerable attention 
to the psychology of learning, and to original nature. 



More popular books for general reading or class use: 

10 DuBois, Patterson.' — Beckonings from. Little Hands, Dodd, 

Mead. 

1 1 DuBois, Patterson. — Fireside Child Studies, Dodd, Mead. 

12 DuBois, Patterson. — The Culture of Justice, Dodd, Mead. 
These books are especially useful in estabhshing a sympathetic 

attitude toward children. Should be read by all parents. 

13 Forbush, W. B. — Child Study and Child Training, Scribner's. 

A text for a class of parents or young people. Thirty-six 
lessons and twenty -seven laboratory experiments. 

14 Harrison, EHzabeth. — A Study of Child Nature, National 

Kindergarten and Elementaiy College. Elementary. Help- 
ful in getting teachers to see the child's point of view. 

15 Lamoreaux, A. B. — The Unfolding Life, Revell. Popular 

elementary training course. 

16 St. John, E. P. — Child Nature and Child Nurture, Pilgrim 

Press. A good text for a class of teachers or parents. 

17 Weigle, L. A. — The Pupil and the Teacher, Doran. Section 

on '' The Pupil." See also the section deahng with the child 
in the Pilgrim Training Course for Teachers. 

4 

Books more particularly concerned with the moral and religious 
nature of children: 

18 Coe, G. A. — Education in Religion and Morals, Revell. An 

essential book. 

19 Coe, G. A. — Articles in Hastings' Encyclopedia of Religion 

and Ethics, on '^ Infancy," " Childhood," '' Adolescence," 
" Growth," and " Morbidness." 

20 Dawson, G. E. — The Child and His Religion, University of 

Chicago Press. A study of children's interests. 



270 APPENDIX II 

21 Dewey, John. — Moral Principles in Education ^ Houghton 

Mifflin. Short and clear. 

22 Forbush, W. B. — The Coming Generation ^ Appletons. 

23 Griggs, E. H. — Moral Education. Huebsch. 

24 Koons, W. G. — The Child^s Religious Life^ Jennings and 

Graham. 

25 MacCnnn, John. — The Making of Character, Macmillan. 

Theoretical treatment of educational problems, containing 
much wise comment on moral development. 

26 Mumford, Edith E. R. — The Dawn of Character, Longmans, 

Green. A book of sound insight and great practical value. 

27 Mumford, Edith E. R. — The Dawn of Religion in the Mind of 

a Child, Longmans, Green. Indispensable. Shows real 
sympathy for the child's rehgious experience. 

28 Shand, A. — Foundations of Character, Macmillan. 

29 Sharp, F. C. — Education for Character, Bobbs-Merrill. 

30 Sisson, E. O. — The Essentials of Character, Macmillan. " A 

practical study of the aim of moral education.'' 



Books containing data for study. (List taken from Kirkpatrick's 
Fundamentals of Child Study.): 

31 Aldrich. — Story of a Bad Boy, Houghton Mifflin. 

32 Burnett. — The One I knew Best of All, Houghton Mifflin. 

33 Canton. — W. V., Her Book and Various Verses, Stone and 

Kimball. 

34 Ho wells. — A Boy^s Town, Harper. 

35 Keller. — The Story of My Life, Doubleday, Page. 

36 Kelly. — Little Citizens, McClure, PhilHps. 

37 Laughlin. — Johnnie, The Bowen Merrill Co. 

38 Loti. — Romance of a Child, Rand, McNally. 

39 Martin. — Emmy Lou, McClure, Phillips. 

40 Meynell, Alice. — The Children, John Lane. 

41 Phillips. — Just about a Boy, Herbert S. Stone. 

42 Shinn. — Biography of a Baby, Houghton Miffln. 

43 Smith, W. H. — The Evolution of Dodd, Rand, McNally. 

44 Sully, J. — "A Father's Diary " in Studies of Childhood. 

45 Tracy. — The Psychology of Childhood, D. C. Heath. 



APPENDIX II 271 

46 Warner. — Being a Boy, Houghton Mifflin. 

47 White. — Court of Boyidlle, Doubleday and McClure Co. 

Attention should be called to Mark Twain, Booth Tarkington, 
Owen Johnson, and other novelists of childhood, whose writings 
have helped to break down the barriers between youth and age. 



6 
Special references for the topics discussed in the several chapters : 

CHAPTER I 

The Point of View 

48 Coe, G. A. — A Social Theory of Religious Education, Scribner^s. 

49 Cooley, C. H. — Human Nature and the Social Order, Scribner's. 

50 Cope, H. F. — Religious Education in the Church, Scribner's. 

51 Dewey, John. — Democracy and Education, Macmillan. 

52 Fiske, John. — The Meaning of Infancy, Houghton Mifflin. 

CHAPTER IV 
Obser\^ng the Religious Life of Children 
See books 1, 2, 3, 6, 18 and 48. 

53 Coe, G. A. — The Psychology of Religion, University of Chicago 

Press. 

54 Hartshorne, H. — Worship in the Sunday School (Out of print). 

CHAPTERS II, III AND V 
The First Eight Years 
See books under the first five sections of the bibhography, particu- 
larly 6, 10-12, 17, 18, 19, 26, 27; also 103-105, 110. 

55 Cope, H. F. — Religious Education in the Family, University of 

Chicago Press. 

56 Fitz, Mrs. R. K. and G. W. — Problems of Babyhood, Holt. 

57 Major, D. R. — First Steps in Mental Growth, Macmillan. 

58 Preyer, W. — The Mind of the Child, Appletons. 

59 Preyer, W. — Mental Development in the Child, Appletons. 

60 Rankin, M. E. — A Course for Beginners in Religious Educa- 

tion, Scribner's. 



272 APPENDIX II 

CHAPTER VII 

Boys and Girls 

See books under the first five sections of this bibHography, particu- 
larly 6, 17, 18, 19; also 100, 109, 110. 

61 Forbush, W. B. — The Boy Problem, Pilgrim Press. 

62 McKeever, W. A. — Training the Boy, Macmillan. 

63 McKeever, W. A. — Training the Girl, Macmillan. 

64 Moxcey, M. E. — Girlhood and Character, Abingdon Press.' 

CHAPTER VIII 
The Transition 
See books under the first five sections of this bibHography, par- 
ticularly 6, 17, 18, 19; also 61-64, 100 (Sex Education), 102, 109, 
110. 

65 Alexander, J. L. — The Sunday School and the Teens^ Associa- 

tion Press. 

66 Coe, G. A. — The Spiritual Life, Revell. 

67 Hall, G. S. — Adolescence, Appletons. Two volumes. 

68 Hall, G. S. — Youth, Its Education, Regimen and Hygiene. 

Sixty-seven abridged. Appletons. 

69 King, Irving. — The High School Age, Bobbs-Merrill. 

CHAPTER VI 

Likenesses and Differences 

70 Strayer and Norsworthy. — How to Teach, Macmillan. 

71 Thorndike, E. L. — Education, Macmillan. 

72 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Vol. Ill, Teachers 

College. 

73 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology, Briefer Course. 

74 Thorndike, E. L. — Individuality, Houghton Miffiin. 

CHAPTERS IX AND X 
Our Inherited Equipment 
See books under Sections I and II and under Chapters I and VI, 
and also 48. 

75 Calhoun, A. W. — A Social History of the American Family, 

from Colonial Times to the Present, Clark. 



i 



APPENDIX II 273 

76 Downing, Elliott. — The Third and Fourth Generation f Uni- 

versity of Chicago Press. 

77 Goodsell, W. — A History of the Family as a Social and Educa- 

tional Institution J Macmillan. 

78 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology , Vol. I, Teachers 

College. 

CHAPTERS XI AND XII 
Making Over Human Nature 

79 Colvin, S. S. — The Learning Process, Macmillan. 

80 Swift, E.J. — Mind in the Making, Scribner's. 

81 Thorndike, E. L. — Educational Psychology y Vol. II, Teachers 

College. 
Concerning Action: See books under Chapters IX and X, also 

82 Dewey, J. and E. — Schools of Tomorrow, E. P. Dutton. 

83 Diffendorfer, R. E. — Missionary Education in Home and School, 

Abingdon Press. 

84 Hut chins, W. N. — Graded Social Service for the Sunday School, 

University of Chicago Press. 

85 Hutton, J. G. — The Missionary Education of Juniors, Mis- 

sionary Education Movement. 

86 James, William. — Psychology, Briefer Course, X, Holt. 

87 James Wilham. — Talks to Teachers, VIII, Holt. 

88 Kirkpatrick, E. A. — The Use of Money, How to Save and How 

to Spend, Bobbs-Merrill. 
Concerning Thinking: 

89 Dewey, John. — Fow; We Think, D. C. Heath. 

90 McMurry, F. M. — Elementary School Standards, World Book 

Co 

91 McMurry, F. M. — How to Study, Houghton Mifflin. 

92 Miller, I. E. — The Psychology of Thinking, Macmillan. 

93 Woodworth, R. S. — Dynamic Psychology, Columbia University 

Press. 
Concerning Worship: See 54, also 

94 Hartshorne, H. — Manuxil for Training in Worship, Scribner's. 

CHAPTER XIII 
Motives 
See book 93. 

95 Cabot, R. C. — What Men Live By, Houghton Mifflin. 



274 APPENDIX II 

96 Dewey, John. — Interest and Effort in Education^ Houghton 

Mifflin. 

97 Galloway, T. W. — The Use of Motives in the Teaching of 

Morals and Religion y Pilgrim Press. 



CHAPTER XIV 
Health 

98 Bigelow, M. A. and A. N. — Applied Biology, Macmillan. ' 

99 Bigelow, M. A. and A. N. — Introduction to Biology , Mac- 

millan. 

100 Bigelow, M. A. — Sex Education^ Macmillan. 

101 Cabot, R. C. — A Layman's Handbook of Medicine^ Houghton 

Mifflin. 

102 Fisher and Fisk. — How to Live, Funk and Wagnall. 

103 Holt, L. E. — The Care and Feeding of Children, Appletons 

104 Kerley, C. G. — Short Talks with Young Mothers, Putnam. 

105 Oppenheim, N. — The Development of the Child, Macmillan. 

106 O'Shea and Kellog. — The Body in Health, Macmillan. 

107 Read, M. L. — Mother craft Manual, Little, Brown. 

108 Rowe, S. H. — The Physical Nature of the Child and How to 

Study It, Macmillan. 

109 Taylor, C. K. — The Boys' Camp Manual, Century. 

110 Tyler, J. M. — Growth and Education, Macmillan — Extensive 
Bibliography. 

CHAPTERS XV AND XVI 
Work and Play 

See books 5, 28, 48, 68, 69, 78, 80, 81, 95. 

111 Atkinson, H. A. — The Church and the People's Play, Pilgrim 

Press. 

112 Bancroft, J. H. — Games for Playground, Home, School and 

Gymnasium, Macmillan. 

113 Bates and Orr. — Pageants and Pageantry, Ginn. ' 

114 Cannon, W. B. — Bodily Changes in Pain, Hunger, Fear and 

Rage, Appletons. Technical discussion referred to in the 
text. 

115 Colvin and Bagley. — Human Behavior. Macmillan. Espe- 

cially Chapter V on " Behavior and the Feelings." 



APPENDIX II 275 

116 Crile, G. W. — The Origin and Nature of the Emotions^ W. B. 

Saunders Co. Technical discussion from the medical stand- 
point, referred to in the text. 

117 Curtis, H. S. — Education through Play, Macmillan. 

118 Curtis, H. S. — The Play Movement and Its Significance, 

Macmillan. 

119 Curtis, E. W. — The Dramatic Instinct in Education ^ Houghton 

Mifflin. 

120 Gates, H. W. — Recreation and the Church j University of Chi- 

cago Press. 

121 Johnson, G. E. — Education by Plays and Games, Ginn. 

122 Lee, J. — Play in Education, Macmillan. 

123 Mackay, CD. — How to Produce Children's Plays, Holt. 

124 Mackay, P. — A Substitute for War, Macmillan. 

125 McDougall, W. — Social Psychology, Luce. Especially Chap- 

ters III, V, and VI. 

126 Patrick, G. T. W. — Psychology of Relaxation. 

CHAPTER XVII 

Character 
See Section IV of this bibhography, and also 48. 

127 Hoben, Allan. — The Church School of Citizenship, University of 

Chicago Press. 

128 Schoff, H. K. — The Wayward Child. A study of the causes of 

crime. Bobbs-Merrill. 



APPENDIX III. — Chart A 



CHART OF SOCIAL DEVELOPMENT 

To be made out for some one child or for children in general 


Age 


12 3 


4 5 


6 7 8 


9 10 11 


12 13 


Associates: 


Constant 
contacts 












mother, chil- 
dren of own 
age, police- 
man, etc. 


Occasional 
contacts 














Self-chosen 
contacts 












Places where most time 
is spent 












Predominant Activity 












Plays and Games 












Work (see Ch. XV) 












Stronger Instincts 










V 


Things valued highly 
(willingly sacrificed for) 










i; 


Time-span of recalled and 
imagined experience — 
one day, one month, 
one year, etc. 










ii 

1 


Persons most influential 










1, 


Motives — how influenced 
— suggestion, example, 
argument, threats, re- 
wards, etc. 










' 


Typical Purposes 












Problems of Social Ad- 
justment 












Problems of Intellectual 
Adjustment 


















T 


r6 







CO 2 
B " 

O S 

o 

en .;3 

^ > r 

G £s 

1/3 MX 

3 £ 1^ 

P ^ b 

^ -=5 :^ 

o ° c 

"^^^ 

CO §.5 



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fe .2 c 



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d 


TJ 




1 

^d 

II 




Is 


03 

Is 
3" 


i 


deal. 

otion. 

unity activities. 



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1 
2 


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> m 



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277 



APPENDIX III. — Chart C 



TIME SCHEDULE 



DIRECTIONS: The schedule is to be filled 
out every day by pupU or parent, showing 
as fully and accurately as possible, how each 
day is spent between rising and going to bed. 
The time is important. Return the Sched- 
Hle to the School next Sunday. 



Pupil's name.. 



Day School S. S. Grade... 

D. S. Grade Week of. 



..19 





SUMMARY 


2 
5 


Hour 


Sunday 


Hour 


Monday 


Hour 


Tuesday 


{Do not fill in) 

At home 

At school 

Indoor play. 

Outdoor play 

Home study or 

practise 




















































Lessons 

work 


House 
Busine 
Entert 














linments 

J t_ «x_ 














s. s 





































Unaccounted for 

Total waking hours 
































< 


o 


o 
O 


1 

c3 

m 




o 
o 






































o 


i> 


00 


to 
-^ 

00 


d> 


























Hour 


Wednesday 


Hour 


Thursday 


Hour 


Friday 


Hour 


Saturday 
































































































































































































































. ,' 



















278 



INDEX 



Adolescence, characteristics, 
118ff. 

Air, a factor in health, 194. 

Attitudes, significance of in 
religion, 19-21; caught in 
family Hfe, 20, 65; develop- 
ment of, 68, 173; a means 
of self-control, 47; Christian 
attitudes, 65, 67, 174. 

B 

Behavior, laws of, 83. See 
Rehgious behavior. 

BibHography, 268ff. 

Boys, a diary quoted, 126; 
differences from girls, 88; 
a boy's feelings, 100; inci- 
dent of a ''bad'' boy, 99; 
boys' opinions of boys, 125; 
pugnacious behavior, 98; how 
boys spend their time, 58; 
technical skill, 101. 

Brotherhood, attitude of, 67f. 

Bungalow, building a bungalow 
in the fifth grade, 162. 



Cases for study, 254ff. 

Coe, G. A., 40, 86, 183; conver- 
sion graphs, 120, 121. Sylla- 
bus of Childhood, 277. 

Competition, 106, 107, 108. 



Consciousness, common, 10, 21; 

a baby's, 11; individual, 12, 

13, 21; of God, 22; self-, 14, 

21. 
Consequences, foresight of, 168, 

180. 
Conversion, 119, 120. 
Cooperation, as rehgious asset, 

109; and competition, 106-107; 

in the Christian program, 66, 

77; in class, 43; necessary 

for kindergarten work, 24-25; 

spirit of, 18, 65, 72, 106f ., 225; 

versus charity, 67. 
Culture, 156f., 158. 

D 

Definitions, by four-year-old, 29. 

Democracy and character, 229; 
and Christianity, 230; and 
education, 159f., 231; and 
leisure, 206; and work, 207; 
democratic view of child- 
hood, 4. 

Dewey, John, 162. 

Diary, quotation from a boy's, 
126; from a girl's, 130. 

Disciphne, theory of, 235. 

Disease, ehmination of, 193f. 

Dramatization, as a method, 
115; capacity for, 71 ; drama- 
tic interests of boys and 
girls, lOlff. 



279 



280 



INDEX 



E 

Education, and democracy, 231; 
capacity for, 147ff., 155; fac- 
tors in, 155ff.; theory of, 
5, 6; versus heredity, 92, 93; 
work and play in, 217ff. 

EHmination curves, 122, 123. 

Emotional capacity, 131. 

Environment, effect of, 92, 93, 
111,161. 

Exercise, a factor in health, 195. 

Experience, differences in, 84; 
individual differences due to, 
92; enlargement of, 9, 25; 
effects of, 10, 12, 15, 17, 84, 
87; reUgious, 153. 



Family, see Habit; basis of 
common life, 19; dift'erences 
due to, 91; loyalty to, 65; 
sociaUzation through, 182; 
source of attitudes, 20; sys- 
tem needed, 18. 

Fears, 33. 

Food, a factor in health, 195. 

Freedom and self-control, 75, 
232ff. 

Friendship, 67, 69. 

Functions, biological and prefer- 
ential, 214; controlling ten- 
dencies and capacities, 147f.; 
functions of children, 222, 223. 

G 

Games, 61, 64, 65. See Recrea- 
tion. 

Girls, case of generous impulse, 
159; diary quoted, 130; de- 



scription of a thirteen-year- 
old, 124; differences from 
boys, 88. 

God, 17, 22, 35, 37, 38, 41, 172. 

Grace at table, 30. 

Group competition and co- 
operation, 106ff.; loyalty to 
groups, 107. 

Growth, 60, 61, 86, 92, 98, 192. 

H 

Habit, 17, 18, 19, 20, 31, 32, 113. 
Hall, G. S., graphs from his 

Adolescence, 118, 119. 
Heredity, 90, 91, 92, 134ff., 

141ff. 
Hero-worship, 105, 110. 
Hobbies, value of, 218, 225. 
Hygiene, home, 199; mental, 

196f.; personal, 191; pubHc, 

198; school, 200. 



Ideals, control by, 72, 73, 76, 
125; development of, 78, 113, 
155f.; ideaUzation, 110, 126. 

Imagination, 16, 17, 25, 28, 
29, 30, 60, 71. 

Images, 28, 62. 

Imitation, 26, 27. 

Incidents from child life, 254ff. 

Individuality, 12, 104f. 

Individual differences, 88ff. 

Infancy, 139, 157, 203. 

Instincts, as tools, 147; in- 
herited, 141, 143; list of, 
143ff.; of boys and girls, 98. 

Parental instinct, 31, 32, 64, 
98, 109, 151, 153. 



INDEX 



281 



Motives, 53, 73, 177. 
Mumford, Edith E. R., 20. 



Social instincts, 149. In- 
stincts and motives, 183; 

instincts and play, 203. 
Guiding the instincts, 32, 

64, 151, 183. 

InteUigence, adolescent changes ^^^er,' sense of ,^15ffT 

in, 131; and reHgion, 153, 

167; babies, 7; meaning of, 

167f.; individual differences 

in, 89, 90, 91. 
Interests, intellectual, 63, 110, 

131; of childhood, 28, 29, 70, 

105. 



O 

Observation, methods of, 45ff. 
Order, sense of, 15ff. 
Original nature, 143, 153, 155. 



Jesus, for the five-year-old, 41, 

42. 
Justice, sense of, 15, 17, 67. 

K 
Ketchup story, 29. 
Kirkpatrick, E. A., 12, 29. 



Leadership, 106, 107. 
Learning, process of, 160ff. 
Leisure, 209, 219, 226. 
Lesson planning, 170, 187. 
Life, development of, 135ff. 
Loyalty, 65, 107, 108. 

M 

Methods in rehgious education, 
43, 78, 114, 165, 170, 181, 
186. Typical Sunday-school 
methods, 159, 162, 170. 

Money, use of, 32, 33, 171. 

Morahty, moral machinery, 8, 
18, 93, 158. See Habit. 



Peace of mind, a factor in 

health, 196. 
Pearson, Karl, 89. 
Physical changes, 43, 60, 61, 

97, 124, 127, 192. 
Play, 64, 65, 203ff. 
Potentiahty, mark of childhood, 

86. 
Prayer, 20, 34, 38, 39, 40, 73, 

113, 186. 
Prayers of children, 30, 34, 39, 

48, 70, 184. 
Projects in religious education, 

162, 164. 
Purposes, 29, 50, 62, 72, 109. 

168f., 
Purposes of Christian education, 

for Beginners, 42; for early 

childhood, 77; for later child- 
hood, 113. 

R 
Race, differences due to, 90. 
Recapitulation, 140. 
Recreation, 206, 208, 210ff., 220. 
Rehgion, 15, 17, 19, 21, 34, 109, 

112, 119, 120, 152, 153, 160, 

169, 210. 
Rehgious behavior, 46, 50, 72, 

75, 110, 161. 



282 INDEX '^ J V3 

Reproduction, process of cell Standards of religious conduct, 

division, 136f. 30, 46, 62, 72, 105, 237; 

Rest, a factor in health, 195. needed by children, 113; pro- 

Royce, J., 10. vided by environment. 111; 

use of, 73. 

S Stories by an eight-year-old girl, 

Satisfaction, causes of, 144ff. 241ff . 

Self, idea of, 12, 25, 26, 132, Strayer and Norsworthy, 90. 

234, 237. Study of children, see Observa- 

Self-control, 10, 47, 61, 74; and tion. 

democracy, 231, 236. Sunday, use of, 221. 
Service, social, 33, 66, 69, 114, 

115, 164, 171. 

Sex, consciousness, 127, 132; T 

differences due to, 88ff., 138; Tagore, Rabindranath, The Be- 

education, 114, 128; interest ginning, 134. 

in, 125; separation of sexes, Thomas, W. I., 129. 

lOOj 101. rpi^e i^ast Stand, a play, 102. 

Snobbishness, 65, 68, 237. Thorndike, E. L., 89, 90, 143, 

Social education, 78, 79, 106ff., 145 194, 

109, 110, 165, 236. 
Social relations, 25, 26, 77, 97, 

147, 164. 



V 



Social tendencies, 5, 15, 25, 26, Variation how provided for, 

68 132 149 "^ Individual diner- 

Sociahzation, 65, 107, 110, 132, ^^^^^• 
182. 

Society and education, 3, 6. W 

Springfield Sunday-school sur- Woman, creation of, 129. 

vey, 122, 123. Worship, 80, 172. See Prayer. 






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